Inescapable
by goldflecks
Summary: The first time Jane Rizzoli met the new medical examiner it made her physically sick.
1. Chapter 1

**You guys, I'm sorry, I'm just so sick of my other story. Which is shitful cos I think it only has like, six or so chapters to go to really conclude it well. So this is me, just getting back on the horse in the meantime to see if it'll remove my block. Ugh, is it just me or does "writer's block" always sound like something that could be fixed by some form of rigorous plumbing? Gross. **

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**It'll be a short-ish story, continuing in my vein of writing songs based around bad bad pop songs that plague me on my long drive to work. This is inspired by the horrifically catchy ear worm 'Inescapable' by Jessica Mauboy that's been all over Australian commercial radio for entirely too many months. LIKE A SONG IN YOUR HEAD you guys.**

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The first time Jane Rizzoli met the new medical examiner it made her physically sick. Sure, the crime scene was horrific - the victim all but disembowelled - but it was nothing she hadn't seen before. She'd stepped carefully around the pools of congealed blood and chunks of human tissue, eyeing the crumpled bloated body with a purely professional eye and taken in the butcher shop scent without so much as a flinch.

If she was Frost, she could blame her sudden sickness on the faint but unpleasant stench of decay in the air or the hot glare of the crime scene lights, but these were facts of her job she'd gotten used to years ago. To her great discomfort she could pinpoint the exact moment she'd began to feel queasy. Walking up to the group of officials from the medical examiner's office conferring in hushed tones in the corner of the room, her eye was drawn to the slim female figure addressing the group. The first thing she noticed was the bright turquoise of her tightly fitted dress. In a matter of milliseconds her brain took in the woman's shapely bare legs, the curve of her ass and the silky loose curls of her honey coloured hair tumbling down her back, each new observation piling onto the next until they formed a hard brick wall, hitting her right in the gut.

For a second all the sound leached out of the room and Jane was only certain of one clear fact: she did not want to take a single step closer to that woman. She couldn't explain her reasons, she only knew with deep, terrifying certainty that her entire peace of mind was dependant on it. It was as if a deafening buzz of danger emanated from the air around the small woman that only Jane was aware of. Everyone else was leaning in towards her, hanging on her every word, and it was only when Detective Korsak looked up and spotted Jane - struck still two-thirds of the way across the room - and began to frown, that she knew that she had to bid farewell to her compelling fantasy of fleeing the scene and never coming back.

With her teeth gritted, she forced one foot in front of the other, trying to shake away her extremely bizarre and uncharacteristic attack of nerves. She heard her name being spoken, and without warning the woman turned toward her. Korsak was making the introductions, but his words seemed to be coming from a great distance as Jane's world condensed down into the purely visual, as if the sheer presence of the woman's flawless golden skin, warm mouth and sparkling green eyes, took so much absorption her brain had no room for any of her other senses.

Suddenly, as if being jerked awake from a dream she felt her hand being firmly squeezed by the woman's own slight fingers, the soft smoothness of her skin making Jane's stomach clench rebelliously. Quietly, but as clearly as if they were the only two people in an utterly empty room, for that moment the woman's voice was the only sound that broke through to her ringing ears.

"Detective Rizzoli, it's so wonderful to meet you at last." Jane could only blink for a second, feeling the hair stand up on the back of her neck at the sight of those lips curving luxuriously over the shape of her name.

"Uh, hi…same…" she managed lamely, her voice barely more than a husk. She'd completely missed Korsak's entire spiel about who the woman was and she felt the bile rising up in her throat as she wondered how obvious her complete and total discombobulation was to the other homicide professionals.

She blinked in confusion and dragged her eyes away from the woman's face, quickly dropping them to her delicate high heeled feet, swallowing hard. She felt her face flush as her stupid eyes somehow managed to burn into her brain a vivid image of the perfect swell of the woman's cleavage. For the next two minutes all of her thought processes swam like crazy. _Don't think about her boobs. Stop thinking about them. Stop thinking about touching them. Stop thinking about her naked. Oh my god what's happening to me? For god's sake listen to what she's saying._

Nausea took over and for a moment she thought she might actually interrupt the woman's speech by doubling over and chucking up right there on her incredibly expensive looking shoes. She worked on keeping her breathing even and tried to force her brain to process the meaning of the woman's words and not just the warm timbre of her voice. Something about blood splatter? She faintly heard one of the crime lab techs address her as _Dr. Isles, _and with a terrible hot rush Jane realised that the owner of the terrifying, perfect breasts and the slinky golden curls was her new Chief Medical Examiner.

"Jane?" Korsak prodded her, and to her intense discomfort she realised everyone was staring at her waiting for her to speak. Her eyes shot to Dr. Isles whose smile was fading, her bright eyes narrowing in intent observation. Suddenly realising she was seconds from throwing up, Jane rapidly excused herself, muttering something about needing some air. She tried to keep her back straight as she heard a couple of detectives snicker as she barely made it out the door before ducking behind a dumpster, dry heaving.

The urge to vomit passed as suddenly as it had arrived and wiping the sweat from her brow, Jane stepped further into the alleyway to take a seat on a set of concrete steps and hide away out of view while she regained her equilibrium. Surveying the graffiti and pigeons pecking amongst the garbage near her feet she wondered _what exactly the_ _goddamned fuckity hell_ had come over her. Because sure, sometimes she wasn't exactly a people person but she'd never been sickened by someone's mere presence before. And it wasn't remotely repulsion either - working with rapists and murderers meant Jane was well used to that particular sensation. It was more akin to sheer terror, which made no sense at all since her job meant she'd spent years getting used to facing down all kinds of dangerous people while Dr. Isles was both petite and polite, not to mention working on her side, therefore posing no obvious threat whatsoever that she could see.

And yet for some reason she made Jane feel queasy and tongue-tied and dizzy - and then there was the thing about her boobs - what the hell was _that_? She tried to pin down the exact feeling but all she could come up with was that Dr. Isles was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. She was ultra-feminine, and glamorous, and, well…_sexy. _She dressed like an escaped runway model and yet Jane couldn't comfortably dismiss her as some kind of airhead like she usually would. _Chief Medical Examiner for god's sake_ - and at a very young age at that. She was clearly some kind of genius or else ferociously ambitious. Then there was the impressive way she held the whole crime scene captive, with all the macho detectives and impatient crime scene techs in her sway. Dr. Isles was…well, she was _perfect. _In the face of that kind of whole package model of womanhood, of course Jane was intimidated. What woman wouldn't be, let alone a tomboy like Jane who didn't even know which end of a lipstick was which?

Jesus christ, what kind of a crazy over the top reaction was that to have? Her mother's nitpicking and criticising was obviously going to her head and making her actually nuts. Terrified of a pretty woman in her workplace, just because she was girly and well put together? Jane rolled her eyes at herself. She was clearly having a very bad day. Well, she'd get over it. No one really was actually perfect, not when you got to know them. Probably Dr. Isles had halitosis. Or even more likely, she was a complete and utter bitch from hell. Possibly she also had a large burly husband that could beat Jane into the ground for having such weird, knee-jerk, oddly pervy thoughts about his wife's breasts. And _that,_ well, that was…that was just the_ completely normal_ human reaction from someone who'd gone through life in a B-cup or whatever. _What were those, like double D's? Holy shit…_

"You still look a bit flushed," came the pronouncement from a voice at her elbow. Jane jumped, and her flush deepened as she realised her inner torment had distracted her from the fact that the object of her discomfort had been neatly picking her way down the alleyway toward her, and had not in fact, magically materialised at her side. "I'm sorry," the doctor tilted her head sideways, looking awkwardly at her through the stair railing. "I didn't mean to intrude. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Sometimes crime scenes can be unexpectedly distressing, even to very experienced people such as yourself. The limbic system can be _quite_ unpredictable at times," she smiled fondly as though sharing an old joke with her. Jane smiled weakly in response.

"No, uh, I wasn't worried by _that_," she made a good attempt at scoffing, though her voice sounded unnatural even to herself. "I think maybe it was just something I ate. I had this street vendor hotdog yesterday?" she ad libbed what seemed like a plausible explanation. To her intense discomfort, this seemed to alarm the doctor even further, since she took it as enough reason to climb the stairs to sit next to Jane and start touching her immediately.

"Oh, Detective, are you sure?" she asked in dismay, peering closely at her face, her eyes wide. Jane noted they weren't purely green but flecked with dark gold. _Hazel,_ she realised. Even the name of her eye colour was pretty. Not boring cow-brown like hers. The other woman's words were racing. "Food poisoning generally means contagion by Salmonella or Campylobacter bacteria, and while the symptoms can hit anywhere from twelve to seventy-two hours later, they can frequently be severe. Are you feverish?" she asked, laying her cool hand against Jane's forehead, which she knew with a flinch, was burning up. "Or dehydrated?" she clutched Jane's wrist, feeling her pulse with a look of intense concentration.

Jane had to cross off her entire list of imperfections in one swoop. Dr. Isles definitely didn't have halitosis, all Jane could smell right now was a light spicy perfume that increased her dizziness exponentially. She was clearly far from a bitch and more of a warm, caring type, if a little hyper and lacking in personal boundaries. And there was also no wedding ring on her slender finger. She took it all in as the woman murmured worriedly about Jane's potential for hypovolemic shock, not letting go of her wrist, which she now gripped with both hands and held in her lap. Jane's face glowed with even more heat; this woman was turning her into a human furnace. "Are you experiencing diarrhoea?" the medical examiner asked with a tilt of her golden head. Jane tugged back her arm at lightning speed.

"No_,_ Dr. Inquisitive, I am _not_,_"_ her voice came out in an appalled squeak. Dr. Isles only looked at her dubiously, opening her mouth as if to cast doubt on the state of Jane's intestinal health. Jane held up her hand and stopped her in her tracks. "Okay," she sighed, "you got me. It was the crime scene. Just…guts everywhere, and the smell…" she widened her eyes convincingly. "I just…don't tell anyone, okay? I couldn't live it down in front of the guys." _Ugh, please,_ she sent up a silent prayer.

"Oh!" the doctor breathed in relief, tucking an errant lock of honeyed hair behind her ear. "Of course! Keeping up a united front in a male dominated environment. I get it. I have your backside," she announced, with a conspiratorial smile. Jane blinked.

"My back," she clarified carefully. "Thank you, Dr. Isles, for having my…back on this one."

"Please, call me Maura," the woman's astoundingly beautiful smile left her weak. Her nausea was returning.

"Call me Jane," she replied, swallowing hard. The doctor beamed at her.

"Jane," she began warmly. "I know you've seen a lot of crime scenes. For most people it gets easier each time, but sometimes the effect of being exposed to so many distressing scenes becomes a series of cumulative traumas, and before you know it you're reacting to many compounded moments of unresolved traumatic events. It's really very common, and nothing to be ashamed of."

"You're saying it happens to everyone and I'm probably just tired?" Jane deadpanned. Maura nodded enthusiastically.

"Absolutely! I recommend talking to a professional about it, or perhaps trying meditation. And it's important to 'get back on the horse', as they say."

"Right. Face my fears," nodded Jane, trying to look hesitant and yet thoughtful, as though Maura's diagnosis and advice had just that moment helped her turn the corner. Maura nodded again, her face an open book of sympathy and encouragement. She laid her hand on the detective's forearm and squeezed gently. Jane leapt up. "Right. Shall we go back in?" she was up and moving without waiting for a reply and ignoring the head spin it gave her. Suddenly she was extremely keen to avoid any further close up experience of the soft skin, sweet scent or intense eye contact of this Dr. Isles woman. Not to mention her humiliating questions and patient advice.

Despite her teetering heels, Maura kept pace with her, and Jane found herself reaching out to open the door to the warehouse for her, her body moving instinctively. _What am I, a guy?_ Maura looked back at her and flashed her a blinding smile, either in gratitude for the gesture or possibly just to buoy her up in the face of the terrible crime scene she was bravely re-entering. Jane felt her breath catch at the sight. She stayed holding the door, bracing herself, watching the doctor's disappearing back. She took in the sway of her hips, the flex of her calves, the way her hair bounced and floated as she walked...

_Ohhhhhh no. No no no no nooo. Anything but that. _Jane swallowed twice in quick succession as the sensations the new doctor awoke in her rushed up to overwhelm her, rapidly forcing her to the worst possible conclusion. _A crush._ A complete and total brain-eating crush like no crush she'd ever known before. A crush to end all crushes. _A crush on a woman. _Jane groaned aloud. Across the room, the oblivious doctor bent over to examine the corpse. _Oh, god. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. _This was way, way too much to cope with.

She'd been called a dyke for being athletic in school, for turning down dates with dickheads at the academy, for the very fact of being a female police officer, and then for being a _good_ police officer who was promoted early. She'd been called a dyke by angry suspects, jealous co-workers and random passer-bys in the street, particularly in her patrolling days. She'd been called a dyke so many times by so many people that now it was almost like water off a duck's back, but the very idea of proving every one of those numbskulls _right? _Jane wasn't having a bar of it. And even if she was - _wait, what? - _she was not about to humiliate herself over a co-worker. Especially not one she'd have to rely on professionally as frequently as the medical examiner.

She noticed Frost raise his eyebrow at her from across the room. He shot her an odd look as she stood struck dumb in the door way. _Pull it together Rizzoli! _Whatever this crazy thing was it would just have to run its course. There was no point in freaking out about it. People could have girl crushes without it meaning anything, couldn't they? And crushes often disappeared as time went by, as you got used to someone, or even better, if you starved that crush of oxygen. Yes she'd have to work with the damn doctor, but that was all. She'd do everything she possibly could just to stay out of her way. She'd have careful, distant and purely professional contact with her and all would be well. That's all it would take. _That and not staring at her breasts. _

Maura straightened, turned and looked towards her, smiling and beckoning her in encouragingly. Taking in the world's deepest breath, Jane walked in to face her fears.


	2. Chapter 2

Jane rapidly found herself in one of the outer circles of hell. Unlike her predecessor, the misanthropic Dr. Martin, Dr. Isles just wouldn't just stay down in her morgue like a good medical examiner should. Instead she popped up at Jane's desk all the time, brightly delivering the most miniscule of new developments in their current cases. Her voice would make the detective jump, then her outfit would make her blush, while the delivery of the frequently unnecessary fact would under normal circumstances have made her roll her eyes, if not for the odd kooky way it was delivered. Instead of being annoyed at the doctor, Jane would find herself thinking in terms previously foreign to her, such as - _god she's adorable -_ and then that very thought in itself would make her flinch, which in turn, made her annoyed at herself. It was exhausting.

Maura was the chief, which meant that theoretically she should be bogged down in vast amounts of administrative tasks and supervisory roles, only consulting on the most high profile of cases. There was really no possible way she should also have the time to be personally present on ninety per cent of the suspected homicide cases Jane was working, and yet somehow there she was. Jane would get the call out to a scene and grit her teeth in dismay when she caught a glimpse of the dark golden hair and designer frock that signalled that Dr. Isles was presiding and Detective Rizzoli was going to be a mass of nerves and confusion the entire case. _This woman must be a machine,_ she fumed in distress. _When does she sleep?_

It was impossible to avoid her. _Oh, Jane, hello!_ - she'd hear in the police cafeteria, and there Maura would materialise in yet another slinky dress, asking so anxiously if it was okay to join her that Jane would be powerless to deny her. The result was that Dr. Isles, glowing with prettiness, would sit opposite her, delicately munching on a salad while chatting brightly about gut parasites or the method of correctly ageing bone fragments and Jane could only poke listlessly at her food, frequently excusing herself to flee back to the bullpen without finishing her lunch.

Jane hoped like hell that Maura was simply on a charm offensive due to the fact she was just starting out in a new workplace, that maybe getting on good terms with everyone from the get go was of some kind of crucial thing with her and then once everyone was sussed out, she'd just go back to work like normal. Because then, soon enough Maura would disappear into the depth of the department's basement, only to be glimpsed infrequently and at a safe distance, like some kind of rare woodland unicorn.

Unfortunately, as the weeks went by it seemed that there was nothing normal about Dr. Isles as a medical examiner. It went further than the fact that she seemed to believe that arriving in haute couture with flawless makeup and without a hair out of place at every crime scene - even at four a.m - was just standard procedure, never seeming to notice how wrinkled and rumpled every other member of the squad appeared. It wasn't just her hyper-enthusiasm either, as she jabbered out facts and theories and data at indiscriminate bystanders, as if everyone in the world was automatically wildly enthralled by the finer details of forensic science. It wasn't even her maddening terror of guessing, so severe that it prevented her from proposing a theory about the cause of death even when there was an axe implanted right in the middle of the dead man's skull. She'd clam up, with her lips pursed disapprovingly at all the _speculation_ until her hours of rigourous scientific analysis delivered her to Jane's side, her expression sunny and her eyes clear as she shared the news that their victim had died _as a result of massive cerebral haemmorrhage due to trauma by sharp, heavy, wedge-shaped object, _before departing, leaving Detective Rizzoli struggling to keep her cool.

No, despite all her other quirks it was her warmth and generosity that set her apart from any of the other basement-dwellers Jane had ever met. While she'd always held their knowledge and obscene level of education in great respect, personally she'd always found medical examiners a little…cold? Pulseless, perhaps? As if their deliberate choice to hang around with cadavers had somehow infused their personalities until they too appeared grey and lifeless. She respected professional dedication more than anyone, but she always got the feeling that medical examiners preferred the company of the dead over the living and that always seemed to Jane to be just a little bit creepy.

Maura Isles however, wasn't the least bit cold or lifeless. She radiated warmth until Jane was always under the impression that she'd been in physical contact with the woman, even when there'd been a whole morgue bench between them. Her face lit up when Jane walked into the room and she had that uncanny ability some people just had, that gave the impression that _you, __Jane Rizzoli,_ were exactly person she most wanted to see at any given moment. Jane always felt like Maura was hanging on her every word, which was absurdly generous since in her presence she often felt reduced to a monosyllabic fool, only managing to cover her anxiety and her tendency to blush with a kind of grumbling sarcasm.

And so Jane's plan to starve her crush with lack of contact was dead in the water from the start. There was no avoiding Maura Isles, despite how often she ducked down wrong corridors or mumbled an almost constant need to go and get a coffee or a find a bathroom or go and talk to Korsak. There was just no escape. All she could do was keep her head down and remain as professional and distant as possible.

Three weeks after Maura had started work, Jane found herself hovering outside the morgue doors, steeling herself to go in. Silently she cursed Frost, who was supposed to be the one getting updates on the forensic investigation of the strangling case they were working. He'd made a myriad of excuses as to why he couldn't go, but the real reason was that the morgue still made him vomit. Jane was careful not to make fun of him since she too had recently begun to find the place distressing, albeit for entirely different reasons. Now, however, she really wished he'd understood that she too, would rather be anywhere but outside these doors. She took a deep breath and pushed through into the morgue.

"Find anything?" she asked carefully, spotting Maura who was gazing intently at her laptop.

"Oh!" Maura jumped, closing the screen quickly, but not before Jane caught a glimpse of a screen full of wildly impractical high heels. "Very sophisticated killer," she covered quickly. "No forensic evidence on either victim," was her summary conclusion. Her hair was up, probably just for practical reasons, but Jane's eye was drawn to her shapely neck and the sparkle of understated earrings. She wore a lab coat, which Jane should not be finding sexy, and yet there was something about the authority of the white coat, and the way the shapeless garment draped and exposed her at the same time that made her knees feel weak. It didn't help that beneath the unbuttoned coat Maura was wearing a bright dress with gold highlights that perfectly complemented her hair and her complexion, and clung to her curves like a second skin.

_Shit. _Jane was sick of this. She was sick of being so aware of girly things like dresses and earrings, when all she was here to do was talk about criminal DNA and causes of death. She was so very over being flummoxed by the way Maura moved her hips or touched her slender fingers to her chest absentmindedly, all the while remaining completely unaware of how Jane was squirming and trying to remember how to breathe. Maura slipped past her to pick up some latex gloves and Jane unwittingly inhaled the scent of Maura's perfume and immediately felt dizzy.

"Jane?" Maura's voice sounded concerned. "You look-" she paused delicately and pressed her lips together in firm resolve. "I get the sense that you don't want to discuss this kind of thing, but since it's just the two of us alone down here, maybe it's a good time to talk about what's going on?"

"What?" Jane recoiled in shock. Had Dr. Isles been noticing all along the way she kept blushing and losing her words and staring at her like a creep? Like a _gay _creep? "_No, _I'm fine, we're fine. It's nothing," Jane's eyes were wide. Maura gave her a sympathetic look, and moved slowly towards her. Jane backed up a step involuntarily.

"You're not the first detective to be sickened by death," the doctor said softly. "You just have to find your morgue legs." It took several seconds before her words sunk in, since Jane was still battling to control her panic, and Maura was still advancing on her. Then there was a steel bench at her back and there was nowhere left to go. Maura stopped, less than a foot away and looked up at her searchingly. She was a head shorter than Jane, and her face naturally tilted upwards as she examined her and _BAM, Jane was kissing her, just grabbing her face and kissing her mouth and she was so soft, so beautiful, so - _"Jane?" the doctor's voice shook her out of her frenzied daydream, and Jane could only stare at her with wild eyes and shake her head. "It's really not so bad-" Maura tried again, reaching out to touch her arm and Jane slid quickly sideways to escape her.

"No. No, I know. I just have to get used to y- …to the dead bodies. It'll get easier, the more time I spend around…them," Jane crossed her arms across her chest, as if they would somehow protect her.

"Immersion therapy…very effective," Maura agreed, turning away from her to Jane's great relief. "It worked for me," she finished in a softer tone. Jane's curiosity was piqued.

"What were you afraid of?" she asked wonderingly, while simultaneously forcing her breathing to finally slow. Maura stilled, her back to the detective.

"People," she said simply. She turned to look cautiously at Jane. "Live ones," she clarified, a tight awkward smile skimming over her features. Jane realised with a shock that Maura's bright techno-babble speeches were her way of covering for a kind of social phobia Jane would never have suspected her of having. _But you're wonderful, _Jane wanted to soothe her, _you're amazing. You should never be worried about what other people think of you, since anyone who ever met you would want to worship at your feet._ Perhaps misinterpreting Jane's silence, Maura had already turned away, gazing down at the partially covered dead woman on her autopsy table. "She'll never judge me, tease me…" she trailed off, "and I can help her. I can speak for the dead."

Jane gazed at the medical examiner, all her observations and discoveries of the past few weeks realigning themselves. She wanted to demand - _who teased you? - _so she could hunt them down. _Did she mean recently? Like at the Boston Police Department? Was it that fucking idiot Crowe?_ She would make him hurt so bad his balls would retract inside his body if he was the piece of human shit that made Dr. Isles look so uncertain. _Ugh, _Jane caught herself. _What is wrong with me? Dr. Isles is a grown woman, she doesn't need me fighting her battles like some macho cop. _The realisation that all of a sudden her brain had decided that Maura Isles was hers to protect, made her audibly groan. The faint sound shook Dr. Isles out of her reverie and she straightened up and fixed Jane with a firm look.

"Come here," she said. Jane baulked. Maura handed her a pair of latex gloves and fearing that if she didn't do as she was told, Maura might try and touch her again, Jane gloved up, and followed the doctor obediently over to the body on the table. She leaned over to look into the deceased woman's face, feeling only a faint sadness for the way her life had ended. Then she jumped. Maura had moved up behind her, and was reaching her arm around her body to hold her hand. Jane flinched, feeling the warmth of the doctor's body lightly hovering against her own. She guided Jane to pick up a scalpel and pressed a little closer as she encouraged Jane's hand towards the beginning of a Y incision. "Now," she said gently, and Jane could feel as well as hear her voice, her chest pressed against her back the way it was. She began to tremble. Maura kept her voice light, as if speaking to a kindergartener. "We're going to open her up, and we're going to take a little look inside."

Jane couldn't breathe. Even through their gloves she could feel the warmth of Maura's skin. _Don't think about her body! Don't think about her breasts! _But Maura's body was pressed right up against her own. _God, _the warmth of her, the…shape, of her. Jane's knees were trembling. "Okay, now breathe deep," Maura prompted her, and Jane's lungs almost burst as she gasped, raggedly. "Actually," Maura paused, "don't inhale." She pressed closer and Jane's head swam. "Follow my finger," Maura moved their intertwined hands closer to the body and Jane's eyes closed in simultaneous bliss and terror.

"Woah, look at you!" a loud voice boomed out by the door and Jane leapt away from the doctor and the body.

"Hey… ...Korsak!" she'd never been so glad to see the man in her life. She turned to Maura, who was looking at her with faint but undisguised amusement. "Thank you," she said, handing back the scalpel and backed away through the morgue. "Umm..." she tried to think of a good escape line. "...I'll be upstairs," she blurted at her old partner.

"Oh no no, I don't want to interrupt," the old bastard said, clearly unsure of exactly what he'd interrupted but enjoying her discomfort anyway. Maura was shaking her head with a wry smile and Jane could only murmur something about not wanting to be in the way of their work as she fled for the door.

"I was just helping Jane overcome her fears," she heard Maura explain to Korsak, who boomed with laughter.

"Rizzoli? She doesn't have any fears," he dismissed, and the fearless detective took to the stairs, her palms sweaty and her heart pounding in her ears.


	3. Chapter 3

Jane sunk into her regular booth at The Dirty Robber with a sigh of relief. It was the end of a long week, there was a cold beer in her hand and the soft cushy bench seat felt like the hug of an old friend. Her closest work mates were sitting around the table plus a couple of her old colleagues from Vice, the game was on in the background and the room hummed with the warm buzz of every cop in Boston who had the privilege of knocking off for the weekend - last minute disasters not withstanding.

For the first time in weeks Jane felt truly relaxed. She'd been run ragged between the warm weather that seemed to cause civilians to get outside in the fresh air and start killing each other immediately, and the constant harassment to her nerves caused by her weird, overpowering, ridiculously long lasting girl crush. With the constant presence of Dr. Isles popping up in the bullpen, or at crime scenes or the cafeteria, it was like no place in the department was safe. She couldn't relax, knowing any second her breath was going to be knocked from her lungs, or her perfectly coherent sentence was about to deteriorate into a husky _uhhhh, umm. _Thank god for the Dirty Robber, the safe haven she'd been longing for all week.

The pub was dark and dingy, the comfy booth seats reassuringly grimy, the tables sticky and the carpet yeasty with the scent of five decades of spilled beer. Not only was the venue beneath the notice of a woman who dressed up in Gucci for a Tuesday morning staff meeting, it was extra secure in that no one at all ventured here except cops, having long ago claimed it as their own. Safe amongst her brothers and sisters in arms, Jane leaned back in the booth with a happy sigh, listening to Frost sniggering at his own story.

"- And then just as Korsak walked up to unlock the cell door and tell him he was free to go, it turned out the perp had his dick out and was mastur- oh _hey, _Dr. Isles," he coughed suddenly. "Glad you could make it!" Jane's head whipped around so quickly her neck twinged.

"Good evening, Detectives," Maura's eyes were shining. Her dress was a perfectly matching green and her slim arms were bare. "Thank you for inviting me. I hope I'm not interrupting your story, Detective Frost." Frost shook his head firmly.

"Er, no, not at all," he denied rapidly. "Can I get you a drink, Dr. Isles?" Maura shook her head and immediately offered to buy a round for everyone, an offer that was met with enthusiasm. As Maura headed over to the bar, Jane turned furiously on her colleagues.

"Who invited her?" she hissed. Everyone shrugged, except Korsak who grimaced at her.

"I did, Rizzoli. It's work drinks and she works with us. You got a problem with that?" Jane glared at him.

"It's a _cop_ bar," she growled. He stared at her blankly. "You know, where we can hang out and talk shit, not censor ourselves in front of Ms. Prim and Proper over there."

"Who's censoring?" asked Korsak. "The woman works with dead murder vics all day, she's hardly going to be the fainting type."

"Bet she's got some sick stories," grinned Detective Mitchell and Jane shot him a reproving glare.

"Shove over, Jane," Frost prompted as Maura arrived back at their table, the usually hostile bartender standing eagerly behind her wielding a tray loaded with beer.

"Since when do you do table service, Murphy?" Jane asked sardonically, faintly relieved she wasn't the only one under the Isles spell. Maura beamed and slid in next to Jane, causing her to squish dramatically closer to Frost, who caught her in the ribs with his elbow until she readjusted, sitting rigidly upright in the booth.

"Thank you, Erasmus," Maura smiled up at the grizzled bartender, handing over a large tip. The whole table erupted in shocked laughter at hearing Murphy's first name spoken aloud for the first time in known history and the bartender shot them a look of disgust before nodding solicitously to the doctor and reluctantly retreating. "Now," Maura smiled, her eyelash flutter seeming to entrance the entire table. "I believe you were telling us a story about public self-stimulation, Detective Frost? I wouldn't want to miss the climax, I'm sure it will be…explosive."

As the laughter roared and the detectives all leaned in to clink their foamy beers against Maura's wineglass, Jane shook her head in defeat. Maura was a hit, a wide-eyed audience to every story from the homicide field, wildly inflated for her benefit, and in turn offering comic stories of foreign objects found in corpses or compromising crime scenes, until even Korsak began to look green around the gills. In short, they loved her. Dr. Isles was clearly now going to be a welcome fixture at every cop function and Jane had lost one more place to hide from her. The conversation buzzed around her, and she glumly imbibed her beer, acutely aware of the heat down the right side of her body where Dr. Isles brushed against her.

"I'm sorry, Jane," a warm hand enclosed around her wrist. "That was insensitive of me," Maura's eyes were anxious as Jane turned her head towards her.

"Sorry?" she asked. Maura lowered her voice and leaned in.

"Telling gruesome stories for shock value," she spoke close to Jane's ear to ensure her privacy and Jane shivered. "It's disrespectful towards the victims and also uncomfortable for you, with your phobia. I don't know what came over me," Jane turned her whole body slightly to look at Maura more closely and their knees bumped. The doctor's voice held a serious note of melancholy as she looked up at her. "I don't get invited to a lot of work functions," she said quietly. "I guess I was enjoying their attention, but it wasn't right of me, I'm sorry."

"No, Maura, it's fine," Jane protested. "It's just shop talk, everyone does it. It doesn't mean you don't care about the victims. It's a coping mechanism. It's just…normal." Maura nodded thoughtfully.

"You're right," she said in relief, after a moment's reflection. She smiled wryly, "You know, I don't get called that a lot." Jane looked at her questioningly. "Normal," she clarified. Jane found herself smiling at the very idea of Maura Isles ever being normal.

"Well, join the club," she said lightly. "Female homicide detective? We're not seen as normal either," she shrugged. Maura looked appalled.

"But Jane, you fit in so well," she exclaimed. "You'd always be invited to work drinks, or picked for department softball teams, or…or to colleague's weddings or to be on social committees," her hand was back on Jane's wrist. "You're so funny and beautiful and popular and everyone must want you around, surely." Jane's face glowed red and she choked slightly on a mouthful of beer. _Beautiful? "_That's what feeling normal is like," Maura's eyes were searching hers, trying to see if she understood.

"Uh…well, thank you," Jane wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "But Maura," she pulled her arm awkwardly back from Dr. Isles' firm grip. "I don't think being normal is something you need to aspire to," she gazed at the subdued woman beside her. "You're not normal," she said bluntly and Maura jerked as if Jane had slapped her. "No," Jane winced at her clumsiness. "I mean you're…you're super intelligent, you're at the top of your field and you know things no one else knows." Maura kept her eyes on her, still looking for reassurance. Jane rushed on, suddenly desperate to give it to her.. "You're funny too, and…beautiful, way way more beautiful than me, and you dress like…woah, and everyone here wants to be around you-" she gestured around the table "-and why would you want to trade down and just be _normal? _You're completely out of normal's league," she shrugged.

"Jane," Maura was looking up at her like she'd just hung the moon. Her hand slipped below the table to squeeze Jane's knee, making her jump. "That's possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you." Jane tried to look nonchalant, chugging back another mouthful of beer, still reeling over the fact she'd just admitted to Maura she found her beautiful. "Even you?" Maura asked.

"Huh?"

"You said everyone here wants to be around me. Do you, as well Jane? Because I get the feeling sometimes that maybe…you don't."

Jane's head spun with excuses. Now would be the time to somehow make clear, in some non-offensive way, that she'd really like Maura just to leave her alone, in peace. _I'm just the solitary type…I don't really get on with other women…I just like focussing on work…I… _"Of course I do, Maura," she said instead, effectively sealing off her only exit, completely unable to shoot down a woman with such a vulnerable look in her eyes. "Who wouldn't want to be around you?" Maura smiled at her with total pleasure and Jane found herself growing hot under her gaze.

"Jane," she began, her voice sounding like a caress, suddenly jerking her attention away as a hand rested down on her shoulder and she turned with a ready smile. "Susie!" she slid her body right up against Jane's, causing her to freeze for a second before she got the hint and shoved into Frost again, causing an uncomfortably close reshuffle as the detectives all moved into each other's personal space to make room for Maura's senior criminologist.

For a few minutes Maura chatted happily to Susie, and Jane just sipped blindly. Maura's entire leg rested against Jane's, from her high heel all the way up to her hip, which in turn pressed firmly against her own. Her arm brushed against her every time she sipped from her glass - which was often - and their shoulders bumped continually. Jane tried to stay facing carefully forward and focussing on Korsak, because otherwise her nostrils were assaulted by the scent of Maura's perfume, or her shampoo, or something else that made her swallow hard and lose all train of thought. But Maura kept laying her hand on her knee to bring her attention back to some forensic story or other that she and Susie found absolutely hilarious. Each time Maura looked up at her, her face was merely inches away and Jane could almost taste the wine on her breath when she spoke.

Somehow Murphy kept materialising at their table and Maura's wineglass was never empty. Her body became slack and warm, leaning more and more against Jane's the more she relaxed. Korsak shot her an amused glance more than once and Jane knew this was a new sight to him, Detective Rizzoli all girly and familiar with a woman friend. He snorted but seemed to enjoy the sight of Jane squirming uncomfortably at all the feminine bonding.

"Okay," she finally interrupted abruptly. "I'm going to head." Groans of protest rang out from around the table, calling her soft and a piker and accusing her of ruining their night. She turned to Maura and Susie, "Goodnight ladies. Don't drink these bastards under the table. Their egos are extremely small and fragile and will probably never recover."

"Goodnight Detective Rizzoli," Susie beamed up at her, but Maura simply stood up alongside her.

"Are you driving, detective?" she asked. Jane nodded warily. "I'm afraid I've had too much to drink myself," Maura admitted. "Would you please drop me home?" her eyelashes veiled her eyes for a moment, "if it's not too much trouble?"


	4. Chapter 4

Jane hoped that Maura was even more intoxicated than she appeared, or that she was at least selectively deaf and had entirely missed the catcalls that had followed them out the door.

"Give her one for me, Rizzoli!"

"Be gentle with her, Dr. Isles!"

Jane had clenched her fists infuriated and hustled Maura out the door, while the tipsy examiner had only smiled and shrugged suggestively in the direction of the drunken laughter, holding firmly to Jane's arm.

Out in the carpark the air was mercifully cool on Jane's burning cheeks. She lead Maura over to the squad car, cursing internally at the mess of takeout containers littering the floors. She opened the door for the doctor then quickly brushed down the seat ahead of Maura's designer frock. Maura beamed at her, their faces close as Jane straightened up. "Thank you, Jane," her smile was far too close to a smirk for the detective's liking, and she backed away around the car, pausing a second in the dark to gaze up at the sky, silently mouthing, _WHY? _Taking a deep breath in, she opened the driver's door and slid into the seat next to Maura.

"Okay then," Jane affected a cheerful tone. She turned the ignition and put the car into gear, coasting out towards the road. "Direct me," she prompted Maura and was told simply told to turn left.

"That's normal too you know," Maura assured her, as if returning to a conversation Jane didn't recall them having. She glanced at her questioningly. "That they all think we're going to have sex," Maura explained, her voice matter-of-fact.

Jane nearly drove them off the road. "It is?" she squeaked. _Real cool, Rizzoli._

"Oh yes," the doctor replied. "It's a very typical male fantasy. Stereotypical in fact. Turn right please." Jane drove in silence, trying to think up a way to turn the conversation elsewhere and coming up blank. Her mind was filled with images of sex with Maura, right now, that night, and a faint constant shiver had started up in her limbs. She gripped the steering wheel harder to cover it. "It bothers you," Maura said, a faint note of reproach in her voice.

"What? Oh, no…" Jane lied. She could feel Maura's eyes on her face. The doctor sighed.

"It doesn't mean anything, Jane. It's purely masturbatory fodder for men like them, that's all." Jane shuddered.

"What bothers me is the idea of being mastur-, jerk-off material for my work mates," she claimed, shifting the topic to a moderately safer avenue.

"Really?" the doctor's voice was curious. "Oh Jane, I'm sure you're a constant feature in many people's fantasy lives. You're an extremely attractive woman. You really should just get used to the idea." Jane tried to comment but all that came out was a guttural _guh_ sound.

"Please," she managed after a moment. Maura was gazing out the window, oblivious to her discomfort.

"And as for the idea of the two of us together, well, I would have thought it was obvious. We're both attractive, but we're complementary," she mused. "Your olive tones against my pale skin - oh, turn left again - my curves and your strong arms. It's a very sensual image; it's only natural they should want- oh Jane look out!" Jane's heart lurched as she realised the car had jumped the curve, and she was driving half on and half off the thankfully empty sidewalk. She jerked the car back on the road, cursing and apologising. "You're not drunk, are you Jane?" Maura's voice was concerned.

"What? No! I'm a cop Maura, jesus," she tried to keep the irritation out of her voice and failed. "I just…could we stop talking about sex now please?" There was a moment of silence in the car.

"Okay, straight now," Maura responded after a beat.

"_What?_" Jane jumped.

"Straight at this set of lights," Maura repeated. Jane rolled her eyes and obeyed, managing to get them safely through to their destination - a large townhouse in a ritzy part of the city.

"This is where you live?" she asked, dumbly and Maura nodded. "Well," Jane said tightly, a fake smile plastered across her face. "Thanks for tonight, I'll see you on Monday!" Maura unbuckled her seatbelt but didn't get out of the car, angling her body towards Jane's instead.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Jane," she said, her voice soft. Jane gritted her teeth. Every curve of Maura's body in that dress, every soft lock of her hair, every passing glance of her shining eyes and every word out of her soft curved lips made Jane uncomfortable, excruciatingly so. But for the doctor's comfort, she lied again.

"You didn't."

"Sex is just…it's just science," she argued. "Attraction, orgasms, masturbatory stimulus…it's all just physiology, and, and biochemistry. I talk about biochemistry, like I talk about…about DNA analysis or metaphysics or the mathematics of bullet trajectory," her eyes were wide, clearly wanting Jane to understand. "It's just _science_. It doesn't need to make you go all clammy like that."

"I'm not clammy!" Jane protested, though she'd pretty much sweated through her clothes. Maura looked dubious. "Look it's fine, Maura, you can talk about anything you want, it's no problem. Really, I like your conversation," she babbled, anything to get the other woman to stop. "I do." Maura gazed at her solemnly for a moment, and then beamed.

"Then we're on the same page," she replied, leaning forward to grip Jane's knee. "So come in, and we'll have a nightcap and talk some more." _What? No! _She was out the door before Jane could protest.

"Maura-" she stood on the road and spoke from over the top of the car roof, but the doctor appeared deaf, already swaying up her driveway, unlocking her house and smiling at her over her shoulder before disappearing through the door. Jane slammed the car door and hurried up the walk. "Maura, I can't stay-" she started, stepping inside the large cool house. "Maura?"

She walked through the formal entranceway and following the sound of Maura's heels clipping on the tiles, she found herself in an expansive kitchen. A low light went on in the open living room and Maura clipped back, smiling. She gripped onto Jane's arm to steady herself while she slipped out of one shoe, and then the other, suddenly markedly smaller than the detective. Then she turned away and opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine with a slight frown.

"You're a beer drinker," she stated, looking worried. "I only have this '97 Chablis."

"Maura, thank you," Jane gently removed the bottle from the doctor's hand, careful to avoid any contact with her skin in the dim light. "I would love to stay and have a drink with you, here…at your house-" Jane gulped, "-but I'm driving. I can't have any more alcohol." She placed the bottle on the counter. Maura nodded, and then shook her head. Jane tilted her head in confusion.

"I redecorated the spare room!" Maura seemed thrilled all of a sudden. Excess wine consumption left Dr. Isles no less articulate it seemed, but it did seem to induce some kind of ADHD. "Come see," she took Jane by the wrist and towed her through a lush living space that contained more artworks and antiques than Jane had seen outside of a museum, talking at speed about ceiling cornices and vintage brocade. She opened a door and switched on a lamp and to her distress, Jane found herself standing in a bedroom, late at night, with Maura Isles.

It probably was beautifully decorated, but all Jane could see was the bed. It took over her brain, screaming _BED_ at her, all luxuriously king sized, with creamy white linen and piles of pillows. It looked incredibly soft and lush and Maura was standing next to it. Without her bidding their car conversation slammed into her and Jane's brain did the rest all on its own. _Maura, in bed. Her hair tousled over the pillows. The sheets sliding over her skin. Her body pressed beneath mine. _Her mind jammed with images of Maura naked, of pale skin under olive, of slender curves being held by strong arms. _Jane's _strong arms. Her imagination raced to the part where Maura was sweaty and arching and crying out - Jane swallowed, all too aware of the blush creeping up her neck.

"So you'll stay?" Maura was examining her face.

"I- _what? _No! I mean…" Jane turned quickly away from the bed and the beautiful woman, and backed towards the door. "It's lovely, Maura," she gripped the door frame, feeling seasick as though she didn't trust her hands not to just grab for Maura's body without her own permission. It seemed quite possible she'd find herself unzipping the doctor's dress before her brain even caught up, like some kind of nightmare where an alien force took over her body. "Great cornices," she looked around, unsure where they would be. "But I really do have to go." There was a catch in her voice as she all but stumbled into the hall, catching the glimpse of disappointment on Dr. Isles' face as she turned.

"Oh, no, of course," she trailed behind Jane to the relative safety of the kitchen. "I just…no one's stayed in it yet. It seems like such a waste. I thought we could just have another glass of wine, maybe watch a movie or something? Like an adult sleepover!"

"Another time," Jane lied, flinching at _how_ adult the sleepover was that was happening in her brain. She picked up her car keys. Now Maura really looked downcast.

"Jane, I'm sorry," she said. "I'm trying to force something you're not comfortable with. I got...carried away enjoying the night, and it's not fair on you. It's not really where my talents lie," she admitted. "Making friends, I mean." She looked so small in her bare feet that Jane crumbled internally. She hated herself in that moment. Maura was so sweet and so open about wanting Jane's friendship, and so terribly naive to the reason Jane was trying to rebuff her. Dr. Isles was imagining conversation and company and Jane was imagining removing Maura's underwear with her teeth. _Ugh, what a sleaze. _

"How about a coffee, instead?" she dragged out reluctantly, trying to make it up to her. Maura brightened at once.

"You can't possibly drink a coffee now," she fussed. "It's after 1 a.m, you'll never sleep!"

"Maura, I'm a homicide detective. I can drink fifteen coffees and still fall asleep," she looked incredulous. Maura looked appalled.

"I'm terrified for your stomach lining," she declared, opening a cabinet above the sink. "I have green tea, ginseng, chamomile-"

"- That one," Jane reached around her and tapped a large tub of cocoa. She caught another whiff of Maura's shampoo and realised she'd somehow drifted too close again, the smaller woman leaning up into the cabinets as Jane leaned in over her shoulder. Instantly she backed away again, stunned. So much for avoiding her. It was as if the doctor had an intense gravitational pull around her, that no matter where in the room, or even the building she was, Jane would always wind up too close for her own comfort.

They sat on the couch together, Jane sitting stiffly upright at one end, Maura neatly sprawled at the other, her bare legs tucked up beside her. Jane sipped at her cocoa in silence, desperately wracking her brain for some kind of safe conversational topic, something shallow and friendly and not remotely intimate. Maura was uncharacteristically quiet too, and when Jane finally dared sneak a peak at her, the doctor was curled up like a kitten, her eyes closed and her breathing even.

Jane shook her head, a wry smile taking over. She felt relieved as all of a sudden a heavy tension left her body. She was aware then, of having spent the last several hours working non-stop to control every single muscle in her face, as if it were the only way to prevent her expression continually turning slack jawed with lust. She gazed openly at the doctor now, for a couple of safe, stolen moments. At first she only marvelled at how lovely she was, how perfectly formed, like she'd been deliberately crafted that way by an expert artisan. No wonder she was so crush-inspiring. Then she noticed the faint shadows under the doctor's eyes and wondered not for the first time, just how many hours she put in each week at work.

_Where were her friends? Where was her family? Why am I the one here, watching her sleep, not some husband or boyfriend? _Jane realised she knew nothing about the doctor's personal life, not even where she grew up. She imagined Maura wandering around this big house on her own, with her unused spare room and every object meticulously in its place. The doctor carried her own tension around, she saw that now, with her perfect posture and bright expression. Right now her face was utterly relaxed, her lips softened in an almost smile, her breathing soft and slow. For a long terrible second Jane imagined moving down the couch to wrap her body around the doctor's and holding her protectively while she slept. She'd drop a kiss in her hair and Maura would bury her face in her neck and they'd just…sleep.

Jane blanched, carefully getting to her feet. She picked up a soft throw rug from a nearby chair and covered the small woman with it, careful not to wake or touch her in any way, and crept out of the house, closing the door behind her. She leaned back against it for a moment, feeling sick again.

A crush was one thing. A crush was awkward and uncomfortable and brought up questions she'd really rather not face at all, but like Maura had told her, attraction was just chemistry. It was all in her head and her body and her bloodstream. She hated it, but she could cope, if she must. But _this_? This…tenderness? This wanting to cradle another woman in her arms and chase away her loneliness? Jane wrapped her arms around her own abdomen and tried very hard not to feel like she was going crazy. Something was going very wrong here and she felt powerless to know what to do about it.

She stood up straight and walked down to her car. She drove cautiously home and entered her apartment where without even turning the lights on, she carefully and deliberately proceeded to get very, very drunk.


	5. Chapter 5

The weekend was a total write-off. Jane woke up late on Saturday morning with a thumping hangover and an unusual level of post-drinking paranoia. Had she really stood in Dr. Isles' spare room, drooling over her fantasy of naked Maura while the real Maura stood by and watched? Had she actually sat there in the other woman's house like a creep and watched the doctor sleep? _Really, Jane? _She groaned and pulled the covers back over her head and tried to sleep away her feelings of shame.

When she woke again, it was late in the afternoon. She let a sliver of fading sunlight into her bedroom and dialled for takeout, crawling back to bed to eat large greasy slices of pizza until she felt better. Now moderately fortified, she lay on her back and gazed up at the shadows playing across her ceiling and tried, for the first time, to really figure things out.

She remembered the expressions that had crossed Maura's lovely face the night before, the alternating hope and disappointment that played there. She recalled the pure happiness that appeared on the doctor's features each time she succeeded in drawing Jane in close, and the baffled sorrow each time Jane pushed back. God, she owed it to Maura to work this shit out, to stop thinking and behaving like a stupid teenaged boy so she could give the other woman at least some kind of semblance of a friendly acquaintance, at least until she found some better woman to befriend.

It was hard going in BPD, for women. Jane knew that from experience, but she'd never really cared all that much since she'd always just got on like one of the guys. Maura though…there was no way she'd ever be mistaken for anything other than what she really was. Jane had never met a more adamantly feminine woman in all her life, let alone in the corridors of the police department. It was clear that Maura and Susie Chang got on well, but Susie was her direct employee, which made a real friendship difficult. All the other managers at Maura's level were men, and the other women beneath her, well, they were _beneath_ her, at least in Jane's opinion.

Could she do it? Could she be Maura's friend? Could she even bear it? She imagined day after day being the object of Dr. Isles' glowing smiles, accepting the constant little pats and squeezes that Maura showered her with, all without slipping up and say, accidentally sticking her tongue down her throat. _Ugh, _this was impossible.

_This crush_. _This goddamned crush_…it would end, surely it would? Jane was sick of winding up tongue-tied, of fighting with the urge her eyes always had to land for inappropriately prolonged moments on all the places Maura's clothing ended and her skin began. It just felt so out of her control, so _physical,_ like the very sound of Dr. Isles' voice made her skin burn, her eye contact made her nipples harden all the way under her clothes, and any small brush of her skin left Jane feeling hot and tight in extremely uncomfortable places. It was ridiculous. She felt like a teenager all over again, as if she was yet again at the mercy of her hormones, slamming into her with an almost constant awareness of a need to relieve an ache she barely knew what to do with.

The teenaged part of her brain suddenly wide awake, Jane made a drastic decision to embrace this crush for all it was worth. She'd sink into it like a delicious cool pool of water, wallow in it, indulge it for all it was worth. She would let it free, force it to run it's course and thereby exorcise it like the demon it was. Then she'd go into work on Monday, finally free.

She closed her eyes, breathed in, then out and let go of all control, letting her mind go to what it wanted. _Maura. _

_She was kissing Maura's throat_,_ that creamy delicate skin below her ear that she'd been dying to kiss for more than a month now. Maura jerked against her in surprise and a tiny sound of want escaped her throat, humming against Jane's open lips. _She replayed each moment, over and over, that Maura's clothing hit the floor, one item at a time, _her shoulders exposed, her thighs, her smooth stomach. Jane ran her fingers boldly over every bare silky curve, Maura shuddering in desire_, _wordless, both of them_. _They were in Maura's office, Jane was pressing her down onto her desk, the beautiful doctor perfectly naked while Jane remained clothed, the smaller woman so delicate and vulnerable and_ - _god, so soft…so wet -_ Jane ground against her own hand as she imagined the desperate thrill of sliding her fingers inside Maura. Agonised sounds began to escape her throat…_they were in Maura's spare room, in the huge white bed, nothing but skin contact and sweat between them, Maura's breasts against her own, her legs wrapped around Jane's hips as she rocked her fingers inside her, gripping her right where she was needed and Maura was crying out her name over and over and over…_

Jane didn't get out of bed for the rest of the evening.

* * *

That night she couldn't sleep. She'd showered and even changed her sheets in a burst of energy, ridding her bed of the scent of sex. She told herself she'd defiled Maura Isles enough for a lifetime, and now everything would simply feel different after a good night's sleep. But instead she tossed and turned.

Despite opening the floodgates and revelling in all her most secret desires that teased and plagued her surrounding the doctor, Jane felt no satisfaction. Her body was sated, but her mind felt numb. She stared at her bedroom wall, feeling nothing but emptiness. If anything, she felt the faint urge to cry.

_This is no crush. _Jane rolled over, pressed her face into the mattress and pulled the pillow over her head, but she still couldn't hide from the truth. She had…_feelings_ for Maura Isles. Yes, hot-burning-feelings-in-her-pants feelings, but something much more as well. Feelings that came from deep inside her chest and threatened to crush her breathing. Jane curled into a ball.

_So I'm gay now? That's what this is? _Jane hated the concept, that somehow her most personal feelings - over which she had no control - could somehow mean other people got to put her in a box and stick a label on her. As if these feelings meant she was suddenly another kind of person entirely than the one she'd been her whole life. Her eyes prickled with tears and she put the thought aside for now.

All she knew was that the feelings that had overwhelmed her when she let her lust fly were stronger and more powerful than anything she'd ever experienced with any real and present partner in her whole entire life. Just the _idea_ of Maura had made her toes curl, her thighs tremble, her hips buck and her brain explode in wave after wave after wave. It was lucky then, that the real article was so far out of her reach, because _that_ would probably kill her. Hell, if just the mere fact of being in Maura's presence made her dizzy and nauseous, then just getting to kiss her would probably make her pass out.

A snort escaped her as she imagined finally kissing Maura and the doctor having to say, stitch up her head, after she collapsed in a dramatic swoon without catching herself on the way down. God, she was a _mess_. She finally fell asleep after inventing a series of comical images, of the beautiful Maura Isles playing doctor to a bumbling detective, dangerously overcome by lust.

* * *

"Oh, you made it did you?" demanded Angela as Jane wandered into her mother's kitchen, early the next evening.

"What do you mean, I made it?" Jane pressed a kiss to her mother's cheek and rolled up her sleeves automatically to help cook. "It's Sunday dinner."

"Oh, of course, _Sunday dinner,_ she says, like I expect my only daughter to arrive when I've spent the last two days wondering if she'd been hit by a bus," Angela stirred the pot on the stovetop with eight times as much energy as it required.

"I've been _busy, _Ma," she protested, taking up the knife her mother had shoved at her and concentrating intensely on the onions on the chopping board.

"Sure, _busy_, too busy to answer your phone to your own mother, so I have to imagine loose gunman or drug dealers or whatever charming company it is you're keeping these days." Jane could feel her mother's eyes boring into her back.

"Really? I can't even have a social life now?" the words were out of her mouth before she could help them. Her mother bumped her aside with her hip, taking the knife out of her hand and dicing the onion to her own standard.

"You don't do social, Jane Rizzoli," Angela glared at her as Jane leaned back against the bench, her arms folded. "You do work drinks in a scummy cop bar. Don't give me this _social. _You'll give an old woman hope. You have a hot date did you? Meet some nice man at one of your _crime_ scenes? Is that the special _social _event you want to tell your mother about, Jane?"

"Fine," Jane growled, frowning, "I had a big night out with my work friends. There's nothing wrong with that. And don't give me that _how will you ever meet a nice man_ speech, not tonight Ma, please, I don't think I could stand it." She tried to sound fierce but her voice broke a little at the end. Angela put down the knife and gripped her daughter's shoulders to look into her eyes. Jane kept her gaze hard, but whatever her mother saw in her face made the older woman soften.

"You're not sleeping," she observed. "And you're upset. Oh, Jane, don't let your grumpy old mother get to you. I _know_ you know what you're doing. I might not always show it, but I trust you." Jane's face crumpled at her mother's unexpected words, and she bit down hard on her lip to keep herself from crying right there in the warm kitchen.

"I don't think I do know what I'm doing," she admitted softly. "I'm not much sure of anything anymore." The next thing she knew she was being all but smothered in a warm, tomato scented embrace.

"Janie, you're the smartest person I know," came her mother's muffled voice from somewhere around Jane's shoulder height. "You'll work it out. You'll make better decisions that your mother ever did, and you'll be happy. It's just around the corner, I can see it." Angela's voice was fierce and certain, and Jane felt a little bit of the certainty flow into her. _I'll work it out. Everything would be alright. It would. It would be alright. _Jane repeated it like a mantra. "But Jane…whoever he is he's not worth losing sleep over," Jane jerked back, looking at her mother in confusion. "I mean it! If he's not throwing himself at you, he's not worth it," Angela eyeballed her. "You're a catch, Jane Rizzoli, and you better keep that in mind."

* * *

"- and then I smashed the car door open and BAM, it caught the perp right in the nads. He stacked it on the pavement and that was it: three week manhunt over!"

"Hm," Jane replied, pushing the gnocci around on her plate.

"Frankie, come on," Angela protested. "This is family time. Do we really need to hear about criminals or their…underpants-areas? At dinner time?"

"Ma, he was wanted for holding up convenience stores right across Massacheussetts! I did a good thing getting this guy off the streets. It made the papers, tell her, Jane."

"Yeah," Jane frowned at the saltshaker immediately in front of her. Frankie huffed.

"The lieutenant came past my desk personally to tell me I did a good job," he offered. "It's a good way to get noticed, right?" Jane nodded automatically, her chin on her hand. Frankie eyed her narrowly.

"And then he let all the little green men in the cells go and I didn't even get anally probed once."

"Frankie!" Angela shrieked.

"What? I didn't think anyone was listening," he protested. "Jane sure as hell isn't."

"Huh?" Jane lifted her head.

"What's with you tonight? You're on another planet," Frankie complained. "And it's _family night," _he repeated sarcastically. The fact that their father was permanently absent and their younger brother in jail, meant the two eldest siblings bore the brunt of their mother's need for close involvement in their lives, for better or worse.

"Leave your sister alone," Angela's uncharacteristic protection of his big sister made Frankie's ears prick up. "She's got _other things_ on her mind," she said significantly. Frankie's eyes narrowed.

"What things?"

"_Private_ things," Angela whispered exaggeratedly. Jane winced.

"Ma-" she warned, but it was too late. Frankie's radar for humiliating his only sister was fine tuned from childhood. His expression turned gleeful.

"You need some private time, Janie?" he mocked. "Private time so you can get back to your daydream without us interrupting?"

"Shut up Frankie," she rolled her eyes, but it only fed the flames.

"Aw, Jane's in_ love_," he baby voiced at her. Now she really couldn't eat.

"What are you, seven years old?" she questioned. She kept her voice level but pushed her chair back from the table, excusing herself to the bathroom. Frankie's words echoed in her ears all the way down the corridor, _in love, in love, in love _and her head swam.It was ridiculous, and totally not true, and he didn't even know anything at all and neither did her mother and Jane was glad she'd barely eaten because she was pretty sure she was going to be sick.


	6. Chapter 6

**Aw thanks for reading and reviewing you guys. I really appreciate it and I'm glad you're still sticking around and enjoying the ride. **

* * *

Jane arrived at work that Monday, angry. She drove too fast into the parking garage, parked with a squeal of rubber and slammed the car door behind her. She marched halfway to the elevator before she realised she'd forgotten her files, her wallet and her phone, so she turned on her heels and marched back, retrieved her belongings and slammed the door a second time. When she reached the elevator Frost was waiting for it to arrive, and watching her with a cautious expression.

"Morning, Jane," his features rearranged into a smile.

"Frost," she responded, her voice clipped. They got into the elevator together and watched the numbers rise.

"Another day, huh?" Frost tried for a little camaraderie.

"Yep," she said curtly. He shifted his feet.

"You alright Rizzoli? Something up?" The doors pinged open and Jane marched out.

"Nothing's up," she growled, throwing her files on her desk. Korsak popped his head up.

"Morning, Jane," he started up brightly, then coughed. She looked up in time to catch the tail end of Frost's throat slitting gesture. Her partner busied himself getting seated and realigning his stapler and hole punch, pretending not to feel her glare.

"I'm going to get a coffee," she said flatly and marched back to the elevator. _God,_ what a bad day this was already. She'd woken up this way, rigid with anger. She didn't know where to start with what was pissing her off. She was mad at herself for her bizarre weekend, filled as it was with unplanned midnight encounters with Dr. Isles, of drinking to oblivion, of solo sexcapades and awkward family dinners. She was mad at her mother - for prying - at Frankie for jumping to conclusions - the _wrong_ conclusions - and at her father and Tommy for not being around to screw up and take the heat off her. She was mad at her colleagues for asking stupid unanswerable questions like _something up? _And was she_ alright?_

But most of all she was angry at Maura, at stupid sexy Maura for being so…sweet, and so…nice, and so completely innocent of all of Jane's terrible problems with her. For being so beautiful and smelling so good, and for god's sake couldn't the woman just dress down for one single day? Couldn't she dress in sack cloth and not wash her hair for a week and develop some kind of terrible skin condition? It would be the least she could do. But worst of all, Jane was angry at Maura for being so utterly undeserving of her anger. Jane felt like an asshole, and she hated being an asshole.

She scalded her mouth on her coffee, ground her teeth through her paperwork, slammed down the phone after each call and flinched with annoyance every time her name was spoken. Her only sense of relief was the fact that Maura stayed absent from the bullpen all morning. She didn't seen her at lunchtime either when she snapped her order at Stanley. But midway through the afternoon she found herself stalled in documenting her chain of evidence and had no choice but to go down and visit the morgue.

Maura's head snapped up when Jane pushed through the doors.

"Oh," she said, from her seat at the microscope. "Jane! Hello!" The expression on her face was one of mild alarm, but then so had everyone's been who'd encountered Detective Rizzoli today.

"Hey Maura," she said levelly. "Do you still have your notes on the MacArthur scene?" Maura's eyes were large, and she nodded quickly, for several seconds longer than most normal people nodded. She visibly shook herself and walked over to the shelves opposite the door. Taking down a slim file she handed it to Jane, who thanked her and turned to go.

"Jane," she heard from behind her. She wanted to keep walking and pretend she'd not heard, but something in Maura's voice pierced her armour. She turned back and Maura stood quite still, her arms loose by her sides, her hands open. "I just wanted to apologise," she said awkwardly. "For Friday night?" Jane frowned and Maura rushed on. "I was intoxicated. I inconvenienced you, by making you drive me home and then I tried to get you to stay when you clearly wanted to leave and then I fell asleep on you," she paused. "Not literally on you, I mean, or at least, I hope, but-"

"Maura, it's fine," to Jane's bewilderment her anger had evaporated as suddenly as an icecube in a microwave. There was a curl of hair that had escaped Maura's perfect chignon and Jane's fingers twitched she wanted so badly to smooth it into place. "I had a nice time, and dropping you home was no big deal, don't worry about it." Maura looked hesitant.

"I didn't say anything…stupid, did I?" she asked tentatively. "Only, I'm not usually that much of a drinker, and I think I had-" she tried to calculate, "-a _lot _of merlot," she concluded, then winced. Jane felt her tense facial muscles crack as a smile surprised her face for the first time in days. She wondered if Maura had spent her Saturday in a similar state to her own. Though probably not _that _similar, she blanched, but filled with headaches and paranoia all the same.

"You did get a little crazy," Jane hedged and Maura turned pale.

"Oh, Jane no!" she cried and Jane nodded ruefully.

"Yeah, you were saying some pretty wild stuff," she dragged out, "telling me about…" her voice dropped to a confidential whisper, "cornices. And dado rails. And antique mahogany side tables." Maura's jaw dropped and she leaned in to swat at Jane's arm. "Frankly I was a little uncomfortable," Jane claimed, dodging sideways. Maura swatted her again, this time connecting with her bicep. "Ouch!"

"You're terrible!" Maura's relief showed on her face, even as she feigned outrage.

"Also," Jane added, "you snore like a hibernating gorilla."

"They do not," she cried, swatting Jane again, "hibernate! And I don't snore, you're teasing me," her face was flushed with embarrassment and she smiled despite herself, the warm pink of her skin and glow of her eyes offsetting the simple white blouse and grey skirt she wore. Jane caught her fingers to stop her swiping again.

"Jesus, for a very small person you pack a punch," she grimaced and Maura cocked her head challengingly.

"It's yoga," she shrugged one of her slim shoulders. "It's incredibly good for muscle tone," she claimed. "You should try and arm wrestle me sometime and see," she lifted her chin, countering the detective's sceptical expression. Jane laughed out loud. She was slowly becoming aware that she was still holding Maura's fingers and didn't seem able to let them go.

"It's true," came a deep voice from the doorway. "She's deceptively strong." Jane threw Maura's hand away from her as they both turned. "I'd back her in a bar fight any day," the man in the doorway spoke in a broad Australian accent.

"_Ian!"_ there was a blonde blur beside her, then Dr. Isles was in the air, her arms and legs wrapped around the tall muscular sandy haired intruder. Jane's mouth went dry. The man was laughing and spinning Maura around while she clung to him in a fervent embrace.

"Uh, I guess you guys know each other then?" her voice came out rustily, and Ian let Maura's feet touch the ground again. She leaned against him laughing and turned to Jane her eyes glowing.

"Yes! Oh, Jane, this is Ian! Ian Faulkener. Ian, this is Jane Rizzoli, the detective I told you about in my emails."

"Jane," he reached around Maura to shake her hand. "I've heard a lot about you." Jane wasn't sure if she imagined the note of challenge in his deep voice. She gripped his hand hard.

"Ian," she raised her eyebrows. "How do you two know each other?" she asked, keeping her tone conversational. Maura and Ian looked at each other and grinned shit-eating grins and Jane felt her stomach drop.

"We're old friends," said Maura simply. _Who fuck,_ Jane silently translated the end of the sentence from the way the doctor's voice had dropped a few octaves and her eyes twinkled mischeviously.

"The oldest," Ian confirmed, smiling into Maura's eyes. He shot Jane another unreadable glance then turned back to Maura. "Good god you're beautiful," he told her, shaking his head as if in disbelief. Maura scoffed and dismissed him with a pleased hand gesture. "Isn't she?" he directed at Jane, who responded with an almost inaudible gurgle and then stared at the ground. She was trying to work out how to escape without drawing attention to the fact she needed to escape. Ian chucked the doctor under the chin. "Can I take you to dinner tonight?" he asked. She linked her fingers with his and smiled up at him like he was Jesus.

"That would be wonderful. Where are you staying?" she asked. He shrugged.

"Your place," he announced and Maura giggled. _Giggled. _Jane backed away. Her fingers had all gone numb.

"Okay so I'll see you later, Maura, have fun, nice meeting you…Ian," she shot at them and marched out through the doors. She spent the rest of the afternoon at her desk with a face like a thundercloud.

* * *

Jane's work life did not improve much over the next fortnight. _Objectively_ it did - she'd gotten her wish: Maura wasn't around so much. Oh she was there, diligently going about her job, but she sped through everything at a hyper-efficient pace, so she could finish her day and spend her time with Ian. Half the week she ate lunch with him as well, Jane spotted them grinning absurdly at each other across a table in the police cafeteria, as if they couldn't get enough of looking at each other's faces.

It should have been a wonderful relief to Jane. She tried to be enthused. _Yay, Maura's not here tormenting me with her sheer presence, cos she's off somewhere with Ian. Yay…she assigned another examiner to this murder, probably because she has less free time, cos of Ian. Yay…I can get through a whole entire day without getting lost staring at Maura's legs, yay… _But it didn't actually make her feel very good.

She didn't want to be jealous; it was stupid to be jealous. It wasn't like if it wasn't for Ian, Maura would be hers. They were not in competition because there _was_ no competition. Maura liked big burly blonde Australian men, and Jane was a skinny, Italian-American woman. So.

It was just that she hated Ian. Because he was _Ian_. No other reason. She hated his wandering accent. She hated his easygoing possessive attitude around Maura, like he could just swan in and out and have him all to himself whenever he felt like her. She hated his stupid face because it was _stupid. _

And yet Maura loved him. Whenever Jane did spend any time with her she could see it shining out of her face. She'd get a text and giggle that Ian-specific schoolgirl giggle and she'd light up and Jane would hate stupid Ian all over again.

"You're really in love with him aren't you?" she observed, the third time it happened during a single autopsy. She tried to keep the irritation and dismay out of her voice, but since it was Jane's job to open the text and hold the phone up for the doctor to read it, gloves deep as she was in a dead body, her patience was wearing thin. Maura looked up sharply and gave her a long measured look.

"You know, I think Ian is probably the love of my life," she eventually responded. Her voice was fond but there was an odd, sad look in her eyes and Jane decided that if Ian had Maura Isles in his hands - of all the women in the world - and he hurt her? Then, well…Jane wouldn't even give him the courtesy of letting him know what hit him.


	7. Chapter 7

**For happykt, thank you for your PM, you're lovely lovely lovely. In answer to your question, I am Australian. And yet, strangely, don't talk like remotely like Ian. Who _was_ that actor? **

* * *

Jane awoke on the floor with a crash. _What the fuck? _She was in the living room, wedged in between the couch and her coffee table. Something had woken her up? Oh, the phone was ringing! _Ugh._ She fumbled for it and snapped it open without looking at the screen.

"Mmpfello?"

"Oh, I woke you! I'm sorry, I'll go!" the phone went dead in her hand and Jane frowned at it in confusion. She glanced at the number on the screen and called it straight back.

"Maura?" she asked. "Do we have a case or something?" There was a pause on the other end and for a moment she could only hear the other woman's rapid breathing. "What's wrong?" her skin suddenly prickled with alarm.

"I'm sorry," the doctor repeated. "You're right, I only have your number because of work; I shouldn't have abused that for personal reasons," she rambled. "It's late, I'll let you get back to sleep."

"Maura," Jane rubbed her eyes and glanced at her watch. "It's only 10:45, I just dozed off in front of the game. Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"It's really nothing," the doctor apologised. "Nothing serious. I…just, I just really needed a friend," Maura's voice was very small. "I couldn't think who else to call." Jane's alarm sky-rocketed.

"Of course, Maura, I'm right here. Are you hurt? Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?" She heard a small gasp on the other end of the phone and realised the doctor was crying.

"I'm fine," she said. "Can I…could I come over?"

* * *

Twenty minutes later Jane was a nervous wreck. She'd rushed around her apartment, hiding piles of laundry and emptying the beer cans from the recycling. She'd wiped down the sticky coffee table and thrown the covers back on the bed. She'd just been running her fingers through her wild hair and wondering what an appropriate outfit was to wear when the object of your affections arrived at your house late on a Wednesday night, when she heard a light tapping on her door. She glanced down in faint horror at her trackpants and ancient BPD tshirt but her concern for Maura was paramount and she left the bathroom and opened her apartment door, ushering the doctor in.

She peered down at the smaller woman who was still in her work clothes. To Jane's relief there wasn't a single hair out of place, but her face was flushed and there were the faint traces of tears, evidenced by her uncharacteristically smudged mascara. For the first time ever Jane's desire took a back seat. She was only aware of the sadness and hesitation in the doctor's face and acting on instinct, she pulled the smaller woman instantly into a tight hug. For a moment Maura froze, then she leaned into Jane's shoulder and cried. Jane found herself stroking Dr. Isles' hair, murmuring _hey_, and _shhh,_ softly and uselessly, until Maura pulled back, her face blotchy and pink. Jane took her by the hand and led her to the couch, offering her a box of tissues, which she accepted, wiping her face and blowing her nose delicately.

"Ian left," she said flatly. "He always does, and I'm stupid to get so upset every time," she admitted, shamefacedly. "It's just how he is and how it always goes and I should be used to it by now," her voice was frustrated. "But it's just that…he called me on his way to the airport and I was _fine,_ only I got home and his belongings were all gone and the house was so empty and then I…" she began to cry again and Jane shifted closer to her, wrapping one arm around her shoulder. "I didn't want to be alone, Jane," she sobbed. "I'm tired of being alone. But I just…everyone leaves! My parents, my partners, and…Ian. I'm so tired, so sick and tired-" her hands turned to fists on her lap. She pulled away and blew her nose again. She looked wearily up at the ceiling, as if gathering her strength. "I'm sorry, Jane. You don't need this. I'm just your work colleague and we're not even at work…I didn't know who else to call and-"

"Maura, stop that," Jane interrupted, wrapping her arm around the doctor's shoulders again and squeezing her tight. "Does it feel like I don't want you here?" she asked fiercely. "We're more than colleagues, okay? We're friends. We're _friends,_" she repeated, as much to herself as to the doctor. Maura's head fell against her shoulder and Jane held on for dear life.

"Friends," Maura repeated quietly, turning to look at her flatly, like the word was a foreign concept to her. Jane nodded, staring straight ahead and avoiding her eyes, her chin brushing the doctor's hair.

"Yeah, friends," she said lightly. "You're a little goofy, sure," she pretended to muse, as she felt Maura jerk her head back to shoot her another look, "but yeah…we're friends. I'm not going anywhere," she stated. "And I'm glad you came to me."

"Jane," the doctor sighed. "Thank y-"

"And don't forget I'm a cop, Maura," she interrupted. "I know people. Bad people," she added darkly. "If you want Ian taken out…" Maura lurched away from her.

"Jane, no!" she looked shocked. The detective looked at her flatly.

"I was kidding," she lied. "Really, Maura, jeez. Now…" she got up and walked over to her kitchen and rustling through her cabinets. "It's not Chablis," she warned, returning with a bottle of whisky and two glasses, "but I think this is called for."

She waited patiently through Maura's brief history of all the distilleries in Scotland and the effect of peat in the water on the levels of smoky notes, before grabbing her wrist. "Stop stalling Dr. Isles," she instructed and knocked back her glass in one long gulp. Maura looked dubious but followed suit and immediately coughed and spluttered, her eyes watering.

"Oh _god,_" she choked, and Jane grinned.

"Yeah? I'm not a doctor, but I'm pretty sure that'll cure pretty much anything." She poured them both another measure, this time sipping it slowly. "Now. Tell me everything," she said bravely.

And so Jane learned about Ian, about how he and Maura had met at college and instantly connected, despite his upbringing in the outback and hers in French boarding schools. They'd been inseparable at med school and lived together during their internship, before spending a year with Medecins Sans Frontieres in Ethiopia. And then they'd diverged, Maura developing her career in forensics while Ian stayed to be some kind of third world superhero, at least as Maura told it. He was dedicated and brave and funny and god's benevolent gift to mankind or some fucking whatever. And so Maura didn't argue his coming and going from her life. His work was important.

Jane listened, and seethed inwardly. Surely it was possible to be a good global citizen without simultaneously making Maura Isles cry? _Douchebag._

"You've known each other for…like, fifteen years then?" she asked, pouring them both a third measure of whisky. Maura nodded. "When did you start…you know…becoming involved?" Jane couldn't believe she'd been crushing on someone with such a long term serious partner. Maura gazed at her, a small frown appearing on her forehead.

"You know Jane…I think maybe I don't really want to talk about Ian anymore," she said quietly and Jane felt terrible for digging for dirt for her own purposes and upsetting Maura more.

"Of course, sure," she backpedalled. "Let's forget about that ass- er, -about him." She picked up the remote and switched the TV on, and flicked through channels, quickly dodging past a romantic movie and stopping on a documentary about the three-toed sloth when Maura made a faint _oh_ of interest. Jane eyed her sideways before realising she was indeed, serious, then with an inward sigh, watched it with her in companionable silence, their shoulders just touching, until it slowly crawled to an end. Maura yawned, followed by Jane, as she switched the screen off. _Great_, now she was probably going to have sloth dreams.

"Jane," Maura's voice was sleepy and softened with whisky.

"Yeah?"

"May I please borrow some pyjamas?"

* * *

Detective Rizzoli was not afraid of many things, but that night she was terrified of falling asleep. What if she rolled over and like…touched Dr. Isles? What if she talked in her sleep or tried to spoon her or had an obvious sex dream? God, or snored, or drooled or hogged all the covers like a pig? She lay stock still, her eyes boring into the darkness.

Maura had wandered into Jane's bedroom to help herself from her third drawer as instructed, and never returned. When Jane had eventually investigated - with great trepidation - she'd found Maura curled up in her bed, seemingly asleep. Jane had hovered in the doorway for a long moment rubbing her eyes ruefully, wondering if somehow she'd entered a parallel universe where her every wish had come true. Eventually she snuck in and found her own pyjamas and crept into the bathroom to brush her teeth. As she was tiptoeing back out for a night on the couch, Maura had stirred and protested - she didn't want to put Jane out, and argued with her not to be silly - until Jane _felt _silly and now here they were.

She'd quickly switched out the bedside lamp, not wanting another glance at the visual that was Maura Isles with her hair loose, lying in Jane's bed and wearing a Red Sox tshirt that fit her like a teeny tiny glove. _Goddamn Maura Isles and her adult sleepover obsession. _ Jane's breathing sounded unnatural to her own ears, so hyper-aware was she that Maura was lying next to her. Was it too fast? Too slow? Too loud? Her heart was also pounding loud enough she thought the neighbours might complain.

Maura was perfectly silent. Jane wouldn't have known she was there if she'd not seen her with her own eyes, if not for the faint fragrance of her perfume tickling her nostrils. Eventually the sheets rustled slightly, as the doctor rolled over. Her voice came from closer to Jane's face than she'd expected, making her freeze.

"Is this okay?" came the belated question, "Sleeping over?"

"Oh, yeah," Jane lied. "So fine."

"I'm usually very good at being alone," Maura's voice was soft and apologetic through the darkness. "I've always had a lot of practise at it." There wasn't a hint of self-pity in her words; she was just stating a fact. "It's not just Ian leaving," she was so close Jane could feel the warmth of her body radiating. "I really like being around you, Jane." There was a note of confession in her voice and Jane blushed in the darkness.

_I like being around you too. No, I hate being around you. I wish you were safely across town in your big house right now. And I love you here in my bed. Oh god, I want to touch you. Please leave. Don't ever leave. _Jane's thoughts raced.

"Yeah, cool," she said vaguely instead. "I mean, same," she added after too long a pause. Maura was still for a long moment, her breathing soft. Then she rolled away.

"Goodnight Jane," she murmured.

"Night," Jane replied. Eventually Maura appeared to sleep, and Jane lay awake for hours, listening to her breathe.


	8. Chapter 8

**You guys are the best. I especially adore you for noticing my bad sloth puns and for your knowledge of unicorn biology. This chapter turned mammoth, so I cut it in half...(which, incidentally, is sadly how mammoths wound up extinct).**

* * *

Maura had seen Jane's morning hair. She'd witnessed the rare and terrible phenomenon that was Detective Rizzoli entirely without caffeine. She'd also woken up first which meant she'd probably gotten to see Jane unconscious and drooling into her pillow. Jane was pretty sure that meant she was now Maura's bitch for as long as she cared to make her so.

Not that she did, of course, but Jane had to give herself _some_ excuse for her behaviour over the following weeks. She'd seen the pain Maura carried, all day every day while remaining outwardly bright and wildly competent. She'd seen those sparkling hazel eyes filled with tears and held her while she cried. And now all of a sudden she found herself caving to Maura's faintest whim.

Yoga classes? Sure thing; there would be nothing more comfortable to Jane in the world that contorting into compromising positions next to a lycra-clad Dr. Isles, whilst surrounded by people who thought 'hemp' was a fragrance. Why the hell not? Going to the movies together, when 'movie' to Maura meant foreign, subtitled and arthouse - or worse - educational? No problem. A goddamn ballet recital? Anything for a friend in need.

Then to her own detriment, Jane found herself inviting Maura along to her things as well. Because if Maura was just going to be alone that evening, she might as well use Jane's spare baseball ticket, right? And if Maura was likely to work late, purely out of not wanting to go home, then Jane should just invite her to come along to poker night with Korsak's retired cop buddies, shouldn't she? Jane could never remember later if she'd come up with the suggestion or Maura had. All she knew was that Maura was suddenly beside her - sharing her thrillingly detailed knowledge of the life cycles of the bacteria potentially present on stadium hotdogs while squished in next to her in the stands, and robbing old men of their last betting dollars - all the while glowing with pleasure and looking like someone Jane badly wanted to kiss.

Her crime scenes, her workplace, her bar, her home, her bed, her car, her baseball games, her friends. Jane counted them off and shook her head in bewilderment. None of these places had proven safe from Maura Isles. And the worst part was that Jane didn't want them to be. She still felt punched in the gut each time Maura glowed her thousand watt smile in her direction, but now when Maura _wasn't_ there - tormenting her and making her miserable - well, Jane missed her. She liked hearing Maura speak fluent Encyclopaedia, or witnessing her put seasoned cops off their lunch with her graphic descriptions of her morning's work, or laughing as she whisperingly diagnosed the unsuspecting patrons at the diner closest to their work.

She started enjoying the dizzying rush she felt every time Maura lay her hand on her arm to emphasise a point. It made every day feel like a minefield of electrifying sensation, never knowing when the feeling was going to hit. Jane always had been an adrenaline junkie after all.

She loved being the person Dr. Isles sought out in every room she walked into, of being the detective she argued with and antagonised most at each and every crime scene they shared. It felt personal, possessive even, though for Maura it was pure loyal friendship, while for Jane it was something a little more…territorial. But neither of them ever backed down, and everyone else in the room always seemed to fade into nothing more than a minor background player in their constant game of two.

Was it masochistic of her? Fuck yeah it was. But Jane always remembered that Ian could arrive back unannounced at any moment, and since she knew it would crush her into the ground when he did, she reasoned that she might as well enjoy Maura's warmth and attention while she had it, before all she got were the leftover crumbs. At least that's what she argued with herself when she lay awake some nights, torturing herself with the awareness that Maura was not lying awake thinking about _her. _

* * *

Jane scrunched her empty soda can and chucked it into the back seat. "This is a waste of goddamn time," she groaned. "He's not going to show." Frost stretched with boredom beside her.

"When I was a uniform I couldn't wait to be a detective," he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Thought my days of crappy surveillance detail would be gone forever." Jane let her head drop back against the seat.

"Yeah, well," she grumbled, "budget cuts." She checked her watch. "Let's give it another twenty and then call it a day."

"Got plans tonight?" Her partner asked. Jane nodded distractedly.

"Yeah, going out for dinner," she gazed across at the shop front they were supposed to be covering. Frost was right, this was bogus.

"Hot date?" he asked, conversationally. She shot him a look.

"No. Just hanging out with Maura," she told him. He flashed a wide grin at her.

"Huh. So a _really_ hot date then," his eyes twinkled.

"Haha," she said flatly.

"Nothing funny about it," he retorted seriously. "Dr. Isles is smoking hot."

"It's not a _date_ Frost," she sighed. "It's just dinner with a friend. Put it back in your pants."

"Sure, Jane. Whatever you say," he shrugged. "So where's she taking you?"

"How do you know _I'm _not taking _her_ someplace?" she protested. Frost shot her a disbelieving look and she sighed. "Fine. Some fancy-pants French place," she complained, "Le Bow Truck? Something?"

"_Le Beau Truc?" _Frost gaped. "Le_ booty_ _call_," he informed her knowingly, looking extremely impressed.

"What did you just say?" Jane looked appalled. "Shut up, Frost."

"What are you going to wear?" he asked. Jane stared at him.

"Oh I don't know," she minced. "You got something pretty I can borrow?" Frost just looked at her, and she realised that far from mocking her, he was being deadly serious.

"Jane. This restaurant is the shit. I don't care if it's a date or not, Dr. Isles is going to go all out," he pointed out. "You're going to be sharing a table with the best dressed woman in Massachusetts, as well as one of the hottest," he stared at her. "Listen Jane: believe me when I tell you that you will _seriously_ regret it if you don't make an effort tonight. _So what are you going to wear?"_ the man looked almost panicked. Jane reassessed him. Her partner was always immaculately dressed, she realised. Sharp suits, expensive shoes, designer ties. Her voice came out low.

"I was going to wear _this,_" she mumbled, glancing down at her suit. Frost stared at her like she'd sprouted four heads, and all of them ugly.

"Fuck this, man," he shook his head. "This case is dead in the water," he switched on the ignition and pulled out into traffic. Jane had to brace herself against the door to stay in her seat at the sudden movement.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"We're getting you a goddamn _dress_," he announced.

* * *

Jane convinced him it wasn't in fact necessary to employ the lights and sirens, but it was a struggle. He ignored her irritated order that it was none of his business what she fucking wore, as well as her adamant insistence she could shop perfectly well on her own thank you. He found a park on a street Jane knew damn well she couldn't afford and guided her without hesitation into an upscale boutique.

The sales assistants swarmed them, instantly sizing up the man with a good eye for fashion and the life size mannequin he'd brought along with him. Jane was poked and prodded, measured and cooed over, and sent in and out of fitting rooms, stomping her feet in sullen embarrassment and complaining about the price tags, all while patronising the sales staff and giving Frost the stink eye.

Finally she came out in a little black dress she didn't hate.

"Holy shit," protested Frost, and clapped his hand over his eyes. Jane glared at him.

"What? _What?" _she cried, annoyed and embarrassed.

"That's the dress," he said, a note of triumph in his voice. He didn't remove his hand. "Trust me on this one. Now for the love of god, Rizzoli, please. Go back and put your regular clothes back on. And the...man shoes as well. I do not want or need to know that my partner has _legs_ like that."

Jane punched him in the shoulder, but only at half-strength, so that he just winced in pain instead of hitting the floor. After all, he was right - it was a great dress. "What kind of man knows this much about ladies' fashion?" she huffed at him from back behind the dressing room door.

"A man who knows a _lot_ of ladies," he said simply, and Jane heard the sales women tittering behind him appreciatively. "Hurry up, Rizzoli, you're going to need some serious time if you're going to do something with that hair…"

* * *

Jane slammed the cab door closed and looked at the swanky venue with trepidation. Fancy dining just wasn't one of her things. The whole idea of blowing wads of cash for tiny portions of unpronounceable food while being looked down upon by the waiting staff, just seemed to Jane to be an exercise in mild humiliation. All this crap about the correct fork and who knew the most about wine just made her roll her eyes. And yet here she was leaping right out of her comfort zone for this woman, all over again.

Maura had booked several weeks in advance for this table, back while Ian was still on the scene. Only when the night had arrived, Ian was all the way over in Africa and Maura hadn't been in the mood to arrange for another date in his place. She'd wanted Jane to come instead. And so the detective took a deep breath in and started towards Le Bow Truck.

Two men rushed from the street and jostled each other to open the door for her as she approached. Since in her opinion wearing a tiny dress had not in fact removed her arm's ability to pull open doors, she shot them both a bemused stare and walked on through to the restaurant's bar where Maura had suggested they meet. She caught a glimpse of the doctor already there, smiling up at the handsome bartender who clearly didn't want to leave her alone. Jane couldn't blame him. Her heart caught in her throat as the crowd parted for her and she saw the doctor's bare shoulders and dull gold dress, with the split up to…_oh god._ Jane swallowed and forced her feet forward.

Maura turned in her direction and Jane watched as the doctor's jaw dropped. Her eyes ran blatantly all the way down Jane's body and right the way back up, and for a moment her mouth moved but she said nothing at all. Jane grinned a hello and said a prayer of silent thanks to her Fairy Godfather Frost, who'd somehow known way better than she did, how good it would feel to have Dr. Isles look at her this way.

"_Jane!" _Maura took her hand and held her arm out from her body to admire her dress. "That's- , you look- ," she stuttered, then shook herself and just started to laugh. Jane was pretty sure her reaction was positive, but she really wanted to hear the words.

"Why are you laughing?" she demanded. "No, I mean seriously - do I look stupid?" she worried. Maura just gazed at her, her eyes bright and there was an expression in their depths that made it difficult for Jane to breathe.

"No! Are you kidding?" Maura glowed. "Really, you don't know?" she fixed the detective with a look of such intensity Jane thought she might combust. "You're gorgeous," she informed her warmly, "my friend." Jane's heart contracted at Maura's last words. _Her friend. _Yes. Jane had just spent an entire month's pay on a dress and an hour and a half on getting ready…for nothing more than a girls' night out with her _friend. _Internally she shook her head at herself. But still, she reflected, it was pretty much all worth it, just for that one priceless look of shock and pleasure on the beautiful friend in question's face.


	9. Chapter 9

Jane didn't especially care for the overly artistic presentation of the food, the self-importance of the waiting staff or the eye-popping nature of the prices on the menu, but what the hell, Maura clearly had no issues paying for them. She was equally unimpressed by the famous faces seated around them - politicians, CEOs, TV stars and famous sportsmen - but she had to admit the venue itself was beautiful.

There were to be no crappy mid-room tables for Dr. Maura Isles. Instead they were seated out on the small balcony, slightly isolated from the other diners. They had an expansive view of the sinking sun as it disappeared over the horizon and all the city lights began twinkling into view. The air was still and mild, and the candle on their table glowed without a flicker, casting a golden light that wavered softly between them. Jane watched it play on Maura's skin, feeling torn between her knowledge that this romantic scene had been meant for Ian, and her enjoyment of the tiny bubble of pure Maura time the night allowed her.

There was a real luxury in the smooth buttery chardonnay Maura confidently picked out for them, in the lushness of their surroundings and the delicately combined ingredients, but the main luxury for Jane was the full hit of Maura's attention she was receiving. There were no colleagues to interrupt or large burly Australians to walk in the door, and something about the intimacy of the venue and the sense of this meal being an _event _led them to focus on each other in a way that Jane had never expected possible. Maura's eyes were always on her, their conversation was warm and seamless and Jane gradually came to the realisation that the waiting staff were treating them like they were on a date. The thought made her blush.

"What, it's true!" Maura protested, and Jane jerked herself back into their conversation. "You're so much better now," she congratulated the detective. "You hardly flinch at all when faced with a dead body, or even a full autopsy. The other day you even stayed when I had to crack the chest of that terribly bloated drowning victim. You only got dizzy once," she reflected. _Yeah,_ remembered Jane. _When you leaned around me to grab your forceps and your boob brushed my arm. _Maura smiled at her, proudly. "I really think that immersion therapy is working wonders for you. We just need to keep building more positive associations around the triggers for your distress - like how good you are at your job, and the comfort you'll bring to the victim's families - and I think you'll soon beat this phobia entirely."

Jane tried to apply the logic to her real source of discomfort. A lack of positive associations were unfortunately not the problem. An intense overload of positive associations was a more likely cause. "Let's not talk about it over dinner," she declared, scrunching up her nose, as if talking about gruesome murder while eating was a pastime she deigned to indulge in. "It's beautiful here," she admitted. "Thank you for inviting me." Maura smiled softly at her, and reached over to lay her hand over Jane's.

"Thank you for coming," she said simply. Jane allowed herself to be entirely transported, just for a moment. She was in a romantic restaurant with the person she longed for, in candlelight no less. That person was holding her hand and gazing at her with real affection and for the first time ever, Jane imagined telling her how she felt. _Maura, I have to tell you something, _she thought, and then her brain jammed. _I want you…_no, …_I know you only see us as friends but…_ugh, shit no. _You're so fucking beautiful, and I can't ever seem to get you out of my head. I think you should forget your stupid flaky superhero boyfriend and open your eyes to see what you have right here in front of you. _Jane took in a deep breath. _Well yeah, I always thought I was straight too but I've been wanting to do unspeakable things to your body for months now, so…_ She stared back across the table where Maura was still smiling at her, blissfully unconscious of Jane's racing mind and pounding heart. _Maura Isles I want to fuck your brains out. _"Shall we get dessert?" she asked instead, using the distraction to gently pull her hand back.

* * *

The cab dropped them at Maura's house first, and Jane asked the driver to wait while she walked the doctor up to her door. She didn't know where the impulse had came from. Somewhere in her wine-addled brain, this night had turned into a date, and Jane - naturally - was the dude. Once on her doorstep, Maura asked her to come in, and the slamming of her heart in her chest at the possibilities that same wine-addled brain came up with for what would happen behind that front door, forced her to smile and shake her head no.

They did a weird kind of dance where Maura fished around for her keys in her bag, and Jane shuffled her feet awkwardly, until she realised the doctor was now standing still, keys in hand, almost expectantly watching her.

"I had a wonderful time, Jane," she said, her voice low. In the back glow of her porch light, her features were condensed down into the essentials and Jane was achingly aware of the smoothness of Maura's cheeks and the plumpness of her lips. _Does this feel like a date to you too? _Jane's brain prompted her to almost ask out loud. Just joking, of course. _Is this the part where we make out? _

"Me too," she husked. There was a beat of silence where neither of them moved. Then Jane stepped closer and quickly pulled Maura into a soft hug, trying not to grip her too close. Maura's skin felt like silk everywhere they touched, and Jane's breathing hitched. She caught a heady scent of a new perfume, a deeper muskier night time fragrance and her head began to spin. Slowly she pulled back, Maura's hands ghosting down her arms as they separated.

"Goodnight," she all but whispered to the doctor, and very, very carefully, she managed to place one foot in front of the other until she was safely ensconced in the cab. Maura was still standing on her front door step, as they drove away.

* * *

"Miss? Are you okay?" came the voice from the front seat and Jane realised with a jolt they were outside her apartment. She'd been in a daze for the entire ride home, her mind a fog of sensation, focussing in on all the details she'd only allowed herself to skim over in the moment. The glow in Maura's eyes as she'd looked Jane over in her dress. The moment she'd held Jane's hand. The way she'd felt in her arms.

"No," Jane replied. It was not a difficult realisation to make; her head was spinning, her hands were sweating and her stomach was in knots. And now, a new crushing sensation was growing in her chest. The driver turned to look at her. "No, I'm not okay," she repeated, and he looked at her in alarm, not quite sure how to respond. Concentrating hard, she gave him directions to a different address and the cab pulled away again.

* * *

Jane was never so glad to see the lights on in her life. She used her key to let herself in, and her mother was already up out of her armchair and halfway across the living room, her hand clutching at her chest with alarm, when Jane walked in.

"Honey?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

"Ma," she said, a little angrily, "I think I've fallen in love." And with that, Jane began to roughly swipe away tears of disbelief.

"Oh sweetheart," Angela hugged her tall, skinny, oldest child, "it was bound to happen eventually!"

Jane choked on her tears and pulled back, her mother chuckling gently at her. She lead her daughter over the couch, gave her a blanket and a box of tissues and disappeared into the kitchen to find her some comfort. She returned with the hot cocoa of Jane's childhood - complete with whipped cream from a can. Jane sipped at it, thinking that of all the expensive treats she'd been showered with tonight, nothing else had been quite as satisfying. Then halfway through she blanched.

"Did you put brandy in this?" she accused. Angela shrugged.

"You were upset."

"So you decided to _drug_ me?"

"Don't be so dramatic," her mother settled at the other end of the couch. "It always worked when you were little," she declared, shrugging innocently when Jane spluttered. "So why are you crying, little pumpkin?" she asked, ignoring her daughter's wince at her pet name from childhood. "What's so bad about your being in love?" Jane's stomach began to rebel and she put down her mug. Why was this so damn difficult?

"It's unrequited, for a start," she admitted. "They…they don't feel the same way," she felt the tears prick again, half at the sad truth of that statement, and half at the lie implicit in not saying '_she'_. Her mother examined her for a moment.

"You just came from a date with this person?" she asked. Jane nodded. "Honey, you look so very beautiful," she soothed. "There is no damn way that anyone sat across from you tonight and was not at least a little bit in love," she declared. "And if not, then they're an idiot." Jane snorted, a small smile crossing her face.

"You have to say that, you're my mother," she accused. "And sh- this person is not an idiot," she stammered. "They're brilliant, they're…the best person I've ever met in my life," she trailed off, unsure how to explain Maura without revealing who she was.

"Well, then, if they're that wonderful then you should tell them how you feel. You never know, pumpkin, what's going on in someone else's head. What if they like you back? You could be losing out on so much happiness, if you don't at least give it a try," her mother encouraged her.

"I'm not the one they want," she denied firmly. "I know that. That's why it hurts so damn much. But also, Ma…they're not…it's not who you would expect for me," she wavered, unsure if she could go on. "It's not who I would have expected either and I… _ugh_,"she winced, "I'm…kind of scared," she admitted. Having not heard that word out of her daughter's mouth since she was - at most - five years old, Angela sat up straighter.

"Are they married?" she asked suspiciously. Jane flinched.

"What? No!"

"Are they a bad person? A criminal?" Jane shook her head vehemently, rolling her eyes. "Are they of legal dating age?"

"_Mother!"_

"Then who cares what other people think? I married the nice Italian boy my parents approved of, and look where it got me!" she looked murderous for a moment. She turned her gaze fiercely on her daughter. "Jane, don't listen to what anyone else says, not even me - especially not me. What do I know? Just go after the thing you know in your heart is right for _you._ Everyone else will get there eventually."

"Ma, are you drunk?" Jane asked in disbelief.

"Jane Rizzoli!" her mother cried. "All any mother wants is for her baby to be happy. It's all I want too. Is that so hard to believe?"

"No, ma, just…thank you," Jane's voice softened. "I appreciate your support. This whole…thing…it's kind of thrown me. Sometimes it actually makes me dizzy…or sick, even," she confided, wonderingly.

"Yeah, well, love hurts. Drink your damn brandy."


	10. Chapter 10

Jane entered the bullpen with a sense of trepidation the following morning. The idea that at any point she was going to run into Maura and would have to meet her eyes, talk with her normally and then go on about her day was almost more than she could stand. _I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love_, pounded through her in time with her heartbeat. It overwhelmed her at odd moments, like standing over by the corner pouring her third coffee or walking across the hall to grab a file. She'd find herself standing frozen, heartsick and shocked, before stirring herself back into action.

So it was a welcome surprise when mid-morning the door to the bullpen swung open, and Joey Grant strode in, greeting the detectives and making the announcement that he'd been transferred over to their unit as their new lieutenant. Jane greeted her old frenemy with effusive sarcasm and an excess of attitude - _That little runt, Joe Grant, her boss? What a joke - _and he jibed back and tried to throw his weight around. By lunchtime she'd earned herself the threat of an official warning for insubordination and it was _on. _By mid afternoon the little shit was asking her out for dinner. Jane responded by detailing the sexual harassment complaint she'd file if he so much as looked at her the wrong way, but she agreed. Hating Joe Grant was something she'd loved to do since she was five, and making him pay for the privilege of reminiscing with her sounded about as good a distraction from her woes as any.

In the afternoon they were called out to investigate a scene, and she turned immediately back into her pale, shaky, vacantly-staring self as she faced Maura down over the corpse, who was unpleasantly impaled on a fence post below an apartment block. Dr. Isles looked at Jane with some concern, but didn't question the concept that Jane was just struggling with the removal process of the gored victim. She simply rubbed her hands briskly up and down both Jane's arms as if trying to warm her up, and reminded her about their planned run after work that night.

Jane groaned inwardly, and tried to think of an excuse to get out of it. She'd have promised Maura anything, in that gold dress in candlelight, and it seemed she had. Jogging in the park with Maura, when all she wanted to do was run, at speed, as far from the woman as possible. She thought of claiming sickness, of prior plans, or too much work, but there was nothing she could say that wouldn't cause Maura to question her in concern, or offer to help, or check her goddamn temperature. It was all too late; the doctor was so intertwined in Jane's life now that she couldn't even lie to the woman to save her own skin. She was, simply put, screwed.

* * *

Jane untied and retied her running shoes for the third time in a row. Anything to avoid watching Maura stretching on the park bench beside her. Of course Maura would run in tiny, tiny shorts. Of course her racer back top was in skin tight, aquamarine lycra. Of course there was a tiny strip of bare skin between the two items of clothing that made Jane's ability to walk, talk or breathe actually nigh impossible. How she was going to run, she wasn't sure. Possibly she would die. Right now, today, in this lovely green park, in the dappled evening light.

"Korsak told me you were given an official caution today," Maura frowned at her, steadying herself with one hand on the back of the bench as she gripped her sneakered foot and bent it behind her body. "Is everything okay?" Jane snorted.

"Oh that's just Joey's idea of flirting," she explained, nonchalantly. Maura hooked her fingers behind her, and arched her back to stretch her deltoids so Jane had no idea what her friend's face looked like when she spoke her next words.

"He's interested in you?" she asked. Jane stood up and half-heartedly began to stretch.

"He asked me out to dinner," she told her, reaching down to grip her own ankles. Yoga with Maura really had made her more flexible, who knew?

"Oh," was all Maura said for the moment. When Jane straightened up, the doctor had turned aside to brace her foot against the back of the bench, leaning into her stretch with great concentration. "Are you going to go?"

"Might as well," Jane shrugged, a terrible bitterness seeping in through her ribcage. "Not like I have any other alluring prospects," she tried to keep her voice light. There was a silence, and when she looked over, Maura had both her feet back on the ground and she was standing very still. She couldn't see her friend's face, but she saw her hands ball into fists at her side, before she raised and pressed them hard against her eyes like she was in pain. "Maura?" she asked in alarm.

"Don't!" was the only word out of the doctor's mouth as though even with her eyes closed she'd sensed Jane moving towards her. She dropped her hands, and turned towards Jane. There was a sharpness in her face the detective had never seen before. "You know, it's just been a very long day for me," Maura's voice was tight and clipped, "so I think maybe I should just run on my own. I'll see you tomorrow." One minute the doctor was right next to her, the next she was across the park, running at speed.

"But you drove me here!" Jane protested, utterly confused. "Damnit," she realised her shoes were still untied and she laced them at speed before taking off after her friend. _What the fuck was that? _Jane had never once seen Maura lose her temper, never seen a harsh glance or heard a tense word uttered from her mouth. The unexpected fury in the doctor's eyes and voice shocked her. Maura was a mere aquamarine dot on the horizon, and Jane tucked her head down and raced after her. _Goddamn_ that woman was fast. Jane's legs were longer though and eventually she closed the distance. Gaining on the doctor Jane called after her. "Maura!" she panted. "What the fuck?"

The doctor simply lengthened her stride and Jane had to fairly fly to keep up, bursting into a sprint to reach her side, and thinking her lungs were about to explode she wrapped her hand around Maura's arm, pulling her to a halt, the force of the movement whirling the smaller woman around to face her. To her shock Maura reached out with both her hands and shoved her away from her, hard. Jane just stared at her, almost doubled over as she braced her own body and panted with exertion. "What is _wrong_ with you?" she almost shouted. Despite her race across the park Maura's face was pale, with two bright spots of pink appearing on her cheeks.

"What is _wrong _with me?" she cried back. "I'm a fucking moron is what's _wrong_ with me!" Jane had never heard Maura curse before and that fact disturbed her every bit as much as the rage in her eyes. "I've _humiliated_ myself," she ferociously wiped at her eyes as hot tears formed there. "I knew-! I knew it was a long shot, but I really thought after last night, that maybe, that _maybe_-" she choked and batted Jane's hands away as she reached out towards her. "But no! I've been deluding myself all along, and I see that now and god, I'm just such a fucking _idiot!"_

"Maura," Jane was beginning to shiver as she watched the doctor unravelling in front of her, without a clue as to how to fix it. "Please tell me what's going on," she begged her. Maura laughed, a short, hard, bitter laugh.

"Last night," she repeated. "Last night I thought maybe you felt it too, and I was…god Jane, I was so _happy_. I couldn't wait…to try again…just to see what could happen - _ugh,_" she shook herself. "But I was wrong, I see that now. Because you're going to date Joe Grant, and you could of, you could of had…but _you don't want-"_ Maura was crying now, her words disjointed, her face pink and Jane's heart was pounding so hard she could barely think.

"What are you talking about Maura?" her voice was urgent.

"I have feelings for you, Jane!" she burst out. Jane's stomach clenched, her chest hurt and she was becoming utterly terrified because it turned out that continually trying to crush her love for this other person had made her actually insane. She was hallucinating. She was hallucinating, and she'd conjured up Maura Isles sweaty and crying in front of her and saying words that made no sense, because _what? _

"Feelings?" she asked, shaking her head and trying to focus. "What feelings?"

"_Romantic feelings!_" Maura cried. "_Sexual feelings!_" Jane was dimly aware of a middle aged jogger tripping over a tree root on the path nearby. _"Feelings,_ Jane! Things _you _clearly don't understand!" The hallucination felt so _real;_ Jane's vision began to get dark around the edges and her hands went numb. She leaned sideways and made a grab for a nearby park bench.

"I'm s-sorry," she stuttered, her voice seeming to come from a great distance. "I need to sit down. I feel a little-" she sunk down on the bench, wrapping an arm around her own abdomen, trying to will herself out of it.

"You feel sick," Maura was nodding her head, tears falling. "That's, that's so…that's wonderful, Jane," her voice was breaking. Jane gripped the bench hard.

"No, I-, not like-" she shook her head. "Feelings, Maura?" she asked again.

"Oh, Jane," Maura sighed, a note of utter exasperation in her voice. "You can't honestly expect me to believe that you haven't noticed. For god's sake, I've been _throwing_ myself at you."

"Throw…ing…?"

"Yes! God, if I'm not getting drunk and falling all _over_ you, I'm trying to get you to come inside with me, or to stay the night, or I climb right into your bed!" she cried, her face turning red. "I...I plan my outfits around when I'm going to see you, and I think, _maybe this time she'll notice. _But then you turn me into this person who just babbles nonsense all the time, like I'm this fact producing robot who can't even talk like a normal human being, or I just…can't stop touching you, and staring at you... It's humiliating!"

"How long?" Jane asked weakly, still unable to convince herself that Maura was saying what she sounded like she was saying. Or what Jane was imagining she was saying. She wished her stomach would stop clenching so she could actually stand up and touch Maura, see if she was real, if this was happening. Maura made a sound that was half laugh and half sob.

"Since you shook my hand," she told her. "I wanted you…" Jane jolted and stared up at her. "Right away, you were so… and I was, just-" Maura shook her head. "I asked you if you'd had diarrhoea!" she cried. "Who does that?"

"But…Ian!" Jane protested, the stupid muscly Australian so present in her mind, it was like he stood to the side of them, protectively wrapping his big dumb arms around the woman she was staring at. Then she caught the look on the doctor's face, and suddenly she was glad that they were in the middle of the park and Maura's hands were empty, because she looked like she _really_ wanted to throw something at her.

"Sometimes, Jane, you can be so-" she bit her lip. "Ian's gay!" she all but shouted. "You just assumed he was my lover and I- I let you," she told her. Jane ran her hand through her own hair and gripped hard, as if she needed to stop her head from coming off.

_"You said you were in love with him!"_

"No, _you_ said that!"

"You were so devastated when he left-" Jane's brain still wasn't buying it.

"Of course I was! He's the closest person I have in my life - I see him more than I see my parents. He's all the family I have, Jane," she was crying again. "When he's away…that's it - I have a tortoise!" she explained. Jane let the weird choice of metaphor go by.

"Why would you let me think-?

"I thought I was too…available, Jane. Always following you around, like a stupid lovesick puppy," she scoffed. "I thought if you had some time away from me, if you thought I was with someone else, that maybe it would make you see-, make you fight for me," she rolled her eyes. "But you barely seemed to notice." Jane bristled.

"You said," Jane recalled vividly, "you said he was the love of your life!"

"I said _probably!_" she cried. "Because he probably is! He's my very, very best friend, Jane, and he's outlasted every other relationship I've ever had. It looks pretty evident doesn't it? Now that I'm thirty-seven years old, that my gay best friend really is going to turn out to be the love of my life?" Jane could not stop shaking her head and Maura misinterpreted her. "And now, _you_, the one other person I was truly close to-" she wept, "-and I've ruined it. I got greedy, Jane. You always make me want so much more…" she took a deep breath in, and carefully wiped her face, struggling for control. She was so beautiful, it made Jane breathless, even with her eyes reddened and wiping her nose on her arm. "I'm so sorry, Jane," she said simply, "so, very sorry." She turned and began to walk away.

"Maura-" Jane was on her feet, her head still spinning. Maura turned, but she kept backing away.

"Jane, I just, I need you to leave me alone, for a while," she said. "I'm sorry I shouted at you, but we still have to work together and-" Jane caught Maura's arm again, stopping her her backwards progression. "Jane-" she protested, trying to get free.

"I won't let him," Jane said, wishing her head would stop spinning so she could say something that made sense. Maura was shaking her head in discomfort and confusion. "I won't let him be the love of your life," she said firmly. Maura looked up at her, her gaze flaring with disdain.

"If you think you can fix this, by just finding me some-" she started up, anger in her eyes. Jane cupped her face and stopped any more words leaving her lips, by pressing her mouth against them. Maura's lips were warm and soft and Jane had acted without thinking, only knowing she was dizzy and stupid and couldn't possibly fight Maura with words right now. She kissed her to make her point, to keep her from leaving, to gain a reprieve from the argument so she could gather herself and _tell_ Maura how she felt. Only her hand slipped from the doctor's face, brushed over her throat and her small ear and up into her silky hair, holding the back of her head and pulling her in more firmly. A faint sound came from Maura's throat and suddenly instead of feeling dizzy, Jane felt ten feet tall. As the doctor's lips parted in a gasp of shock, Jane followed their movement, tasting Maura, and on tasting, hungering. Months of pent up desire poured into the kiss and she was gripping the smaller woman's body, her strength returned to her, her head and her heart perfectly clear. Then Maura's knees gave way, and Jane caught her just in time.

"_God,_ _Jane!_" she grabbed a fist full of Jane's tank top for balance, reeling against her. "I need- I think I need to sit down-"


	11. Chapter 11

The sun was setting rapidly behind the tall trees at the edges of the park. Jane and Maura were still sitting side by side on the park bench, though neither of them had spoken in the minutes that had passed by since they'd kissed. Maura was pale but Jane was flaming, her entire body on fire. It was with almost visible effort that she kept still, clutching with both hands to the seat on either side of her, stealing little glances at Maura, who was darting occasional, wary, sideways glances back at Jane. There were a hundred things Jane wanted to say, but she didn't know where to start. And she could almost hear the thousands of cogs whirling at speed in Maura's mind. She noticed the first stars faintly appearing as she waited for Maura to regain her equilibrium.

"Jane?" the doctor's voice was low. "What was that _for?_" she asked. "You weren't just… I mean, do you-" she started again. "I'm not sure if-" her voice faded out.

Slowly Jane reached out and lay her hand on Maura's arm, lightly touching her skin. When the doctor didn't move, Jane slid her hand at glacial pace, up and over her slight shoulder and around the back of her neck. She gazed wonderingly into Maura's eyes, trying to read her, and when she shivered but didn't pull away, Jane leaned in and kissed her again, softly this time. With a faint whimper Maura leaned into the kiss and after a moment her hands came to rest on Jane's shoulders. Jane lost time then, only aware of the slow warm movement of Maura's lips against her own, the hitched uneven sound of their breathing, and the feeling of the doctor's fingers sliding in to link together behind her neck. Minutes passed, the kiss open mouthed and wet, but never moving past soft and slow. When she pulled back, she rested her forehead against Maura's.

"Okay?" she whispered. Maura kept her eyes squeezed tight, but she nodded. After a moment, Jane leaned back and looked around. The park was deserted and it was almost dark. "Take me home with you," she decided softly, working things out aloud. Maura seemed to stop breathing. "To eat," Jane quickly explained. "Dinner. And talk." Huh. It seemed her ability to form coherent sentences was going to be a while in returning to her.

Maura looked around as if remembering for the first time that they were in the park. "Right," she said. "Yes." It was as if she'd used up her daily allotment of words in her shouting and raging, and now she was almost silent, looking both drained and electrified as she got to her feet. They walked side by side through the park. Still no words came, and the light crunch of their sneakers on the gravel path sounded agonisingly loud to Jane. They didn't touch, except occasionally when their bare arms brushed, each time setting Jane's hair on end. They reached the car park, Maura's black Mercedes the only car left in the lot. Maura retrieved her key from her small zipped hip pocket, and then she whirled around to look at Jane.

"You don't," she started, "have to do this."

"Do…?" Jane shook her head, unsure.

"This," Maura said. Like it was clear. "We can probably…still…work out how to be friends…if that's what you want," she told her. Jane frowned.

"I don't think I've been saying this right," she said. She stepped closer, taking hold of Maura's hips and pushing her gently backwards until she was pressed against the cool metal side of the car. She followed in with her own body, making the doctor gasp. This time the kiss was heady and strong, Jane invading her mouth roughly, her hands holding Maura's face firmly, not giving an inch. She slid her mouth to Maura's ear. _"I've wanted you for so long," _she whispered and Maura moaned, her hands sliding straight up Jane's back under her tanktop. The detective kissed her earlobe and then before she even knew what she was doing she was pressing open mouthed kisses down her throat, making Maura arch and dig her fingernails into her skin. Jane's heart was pounding crazily in her ears, and she moved back to claim the doctor's mouth again, still pinning her firmly in place with her hips. She dragged herself back with considerable effort, to look at her erstwhile friend. Maura's lips were still gleaming from the kiss, her mouth slightly open and her chest heaving. Her eyes opened on Jane's, and Jane's breath caught at the fire they contained. "Now you get it," she husked, battling to hang onto the feeling that she was remotely in control of this…thing they'd started. Maura's eyes blazed.

"Get in the car, Jane," the detective could hear the smile in the doctor's voice for the first time that evening. She reluctantly pulled away and did as she was told. Maura slid into the driver's seat, her breathing erratic. They shot out of the car park only to find themselves instantly stuck in rush hour traffic. The silence in the car was now bristling with electricity and Maura was frowning at the road ahead with the same level of concentration Jane had seen her focus down a microscope. Jane's foot was tapping ceaselessly on the floor, her fingers fidgeting on her lap until Maura reached over and closed her hand around them. She looked over at the doctor, whose eyes were sparkling now, with a mixture of amusement and desire that Jane found extraordinarily attractive. A horn sounded behind them and Maura quickly jerked her eyes back to the road, and her hand to the steering wheel, accelerating through the lights. A laugh bubbled from Jane's throat. She felt a little drunk.

"Ian's gay," she couldn't stop smiling. Maura shot her a brief look.

"He was sleeping with Detective Mitchell from Vice, that whole trip," she informed her. "I pretty much had to ban him from my spare room just so I could get some sleep," she made a face. Jane thought longingly of the lush king sized bed she'd glimpsed, and fleetingly wondered if she'd get to see what Maura's bedroom looked like. She flushed and stared out the passenger window.

"Don't worry Maura, they were probably just really enjoying your ceiling cornices," she advised her with a small smirk.

"Yes," Maura agreed. "From the sounds of it, I think they enjoyed every last inch of my spare room, probably twice," she scrunched up her nose and Jane laughed.

"Oh, that's- um…_ew_," she sympathised. Maura eyed her.

"You think so?" she asked curiously. "I find the idea of two men having sex, quite arousing," her voice was conversational. "At least, normally I do. Just not…Ian," she blanched. "I know entirely too much about that man's sex life for comfort, considering how close we are." Jane was still stuck on _arousing_.

"Gay sex? Really?" she asked. "I mean, the man-on-man kind…turns you on?" her voice croaked slightly, betraying her.

"Mmhmm," Maura responded, flicking on her indicator and merging right. "Though not as much as the girl-on-girl kind might," a smile ghosted across her lips as Jane's knee jerked involuntarily, causing her to kick the footwell with an audible bang. Maura's hand snuck back across the console to enclose the detective's fingers again, gently stroking, squeezing and toying with them through the next two sets of lights and Jane's eyes slid closed as she tried to breathe through the sensations it caused in her. She was still in her jogging shorts and Maura's fingers kept brushing against her bare thighs. She kept swallowing. The trip across the city seemed interminable. _What was the point of owning a car this hot, if it couldn't fly?_

All of a sudden they were pulling up in Maura's driveway and _then_ Jane got nervous. The plan had felt like one thing when Maura was looking up at her with large, worried eyes, and another altogether when she was wetting her lips like that.

"Dinner," Maura reminded her softly. "And talking."

"So no gay sex then," Jane said flatly. Maura shot her a look that made her eyes widen, and she turned and slid out the passenger door. Standing closely behind the smaller woman as she unlocked her front door, Jane briefly imagined pushing it closed behind them, pinning the doctor up against it and rushing full steam ahead into this girl-on-girl thing Maura had intimated that she might like. Kissing Maura up against the car like that had blown some kind of circuit in her mind, because now it was all she wanted to do - grind her body against her, abandon all control, devour her whole - anything to make Maura moan like that again.

"I don't know about you," the doctor began, "but I need a shower. After that _run_," she clarified, when Jane eyed her a little too knowingly.

"Yeah," she husked, "same." And that was how she found herself in the spare room bathroom, or The Gay Sex Shower as it was formally known, soaping down her body, acutely aware that a mere two rooms away Maura was simultaneously naked and soapy. _This is insane,_ she turned her face into the spray. _If we actually do this, I'm probably going to spontaneously combust, _she thought in faint terror. Her body throbbed as she relived at hyper-speed the last startling hour of her life, of Maura unexpectedly declaring impossible feelings, of the shock of getting to touch her, kiss her, taste her…_if we don't do this right away, I'm probably going to spontaneously combust, _she reflected woefully.

Her only spare clothes in her tote bag were a white tank top and some soft ancient trackpants - both thankfully clean - so she was relieved when she walked back out to find Maura in casual lounging yoga gear. She'd been terrified that Dr. Isles would slip into full seduction mode, and being Maura, would have the perfect outfit to match. She pictured some kind of slinky negligee type deal and she froze for a second, watching her.

Maura was opening a bottle of red wine. Her hair was still slightly wet from the shower and Jane was pretty sure this was the first time she'd seen the other woman without make-up. She looked less like an intimidatingly glamorous chief medical examiner, and more like a younger, more vulnerable human being, one that Jane very much wanted to touch. Realising that this was suddenly a thing she was possibly allowed to do, she unfroze and padded across the kitchen toward her. Maura looked up and saw her, and a slightly startled expression crossed her face, as though she'd not expected the detective to be there at all, let alone barefoot in her kitchen.

"I still don't have any beer," she apologised, and her eyes widened further as Jane didn't stop at a safe distance, but kept coming. She slid her hands wordlessly up Maura's arms and pulled her into a soft embrace, until the doctor relaxed against her, her arms loosely around Jane's waist. She stroked aside Maura's damp fragrant hair and bent down to drop a light, tentative kiss in the curve of her neck.

"I do drink wine," she informed her, her voice slightly muffled against Maura's skin. "I'm not a caveman." She felt the doctor smile into her shoulder.

"Well that's disappointing," she hummed, causing Jane to turn pleasantly dizzy. She pulled away, content to watch this at-home version of Maura, moving around her kitchen. When she realised the doctor had stopped again and was staring into the fridge with a look of mild stage fright, Jane channelled her mother, bumping the doctor aside and assuredly selecting simple ingredients, leaving Maura to pour the wine. The doctor took her own turn lounging against the cabinets watching with interest as Jane chopped and sauteed and stirred until a passable fettucine alfredo began to take shape. As the sauce bubbled, she came back to life and quickly threw together an exotic looking salad.

They'd still not talked about what was happening, not since the park, and so nothing was resolved or even really understood, except - Jane felt - for the startling awareness she could touch Maura now. She did what she could to keep the impulse in check, but months of successfully fighting the urge to reach out to the doctor melted away with surprising ease. She lightly gripped her hips to move her aside, tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and lay her hand on the small of her back when she leaned around her. It felt so natural touching her this way, as did the utterly unveiled look of desire Maura gave her, each and every time one of her small gestures hit home.

Jane was pretty sure she wasn't going to be able to eat a bite, her body so utterly focussed elsewhere as it was, but the long day and hard run caught up with her. Both women ate ravenously, side by side on the couch. Jane was just savouring her last mouthful when Maura's voice rang out.

"Do you think you're gay, Jane?" she asked. Jane almost choked, but she managed to swallow and took a large swig of wine.

"No," she said. "Yes. Does it matter?" she asked. Maura considered.

"No," she replied after a moment. "Just curious," she picked up their empty bowls and took them over to the kitchen to rinse them in the sink. She brought back the bottle of Sangiovese with her, and topped up their glasses, sitting next to Jane without touching her. Jane knew she'd personally asked for the talking part of the evening, but her comfort level was fading by the second.

"Have you ever-" Maura started.

"No," Jane interrupted. "Never. Have you?"

"Not since college," Maura shook her head and Jane's twitched involuntarily, regretting momentarily that she'd skipped her place at BCU in favour of the police academy.

"But-"

"But I want you," Maura's voice was certain and Jane shivered. The doctor's voice seemed to come at a great distance now. "How long have-"

"Maura," Jane stopped her. "Is this a job interview?" Maura shook her head. "Then, listen," her voice came out gravelly, "we'll get there, okay?" she eyed the doctor warily, as she took a sip of wine, then put the glass aside. "Slowly," she warned her.

Maura nodded, thoughtfully. She cautiously threaded her fingers through Jane's, and the detective moved their intertwined hands into her lap, tugging the doctor closer. There was a quiet sigh beside her, and she felt Maura press a kiss against the outer tip of her shoulder. Then there was a shift as Maura sat up on her knees, turning her body towards Jane's, leaning in to softly kiss her neck. Jane's eyes fluttered closed at the sensation and she instinctively pulled the woman closer until Maura was off balance, bracing herself against the detective's shoulder, following the pull on her arm until she was sitting in Jane's lap, straddling her firmly. Jane's eyes were full of breasts for a moment, until the doctor tugged her face up to her own. "Slowly," Maura repeated in a whisper, and began to languidly kiss her upturned mouth.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry about the delay you guys. I'd like to say it's because I'm busy, what with how I have a job and a girlfriend and stuff. But even though both of those things are true, the fact is, I've spent most of my time recently gazing off into space and pondering the implications of Invictu. I am not even joking. So blame colormetheworld, that girl can WRITE muthafuckas!**

* * *

Jane had always had an inkling about Maura Isles, from the hours she'd spent trying desperately to avert her eyes from the way she walked and moved and held her body. There was a gracefulness to her movements, but also a sense of awareness in the way she related to her body that had tormented Jane with hints of the doctor's sensuality. But if she'd been agonised by witnessing it from across the room, it was nothing compared to having it occur in her lap. It was all Jane could do to remember to breathe.

It wasn't just kissing her - and _god_ was she being kissed right now - but the curve of Maura's spine under her hands, the warmth of her skin through her clothes and the occasional shift of the doctor's hips as she moved in Jane's lap that were making her feel crazy. She kept pulling back to steal glances at the other woman's face, reminding herself that this was real, this was _Maura. _It was Maura's hands that were tangling in her hair, Maura's thighs straddling her own, and Maura's breasts very much invading her personal space.

She'd never kissed another woman before, not once, having actively avoided any possible scenario that would wind up giving anyone any more ammunition in their assumptions about Jane as an athletic teenager, or a young woman in uniform. No one had ever really caught her eye in a way that would have made her want to bother with all the bullshit that would come with it. And yet here she was making out with a woman for the first time in her life and the only thing that was making her heart bang in her ears was that it was _Maura. _

Kissing her felt different from kissing anyone she'd ever kissed before, but her silky skin and mouth-watering curves were only a fraction of what made it different. It was really different because the person she was kissing right now could diagnose antifreeze poisoning from the crystals in a human kidney as she held it in her hands, while simultaneously discussing her complex feelings about traditional Japanese theatre and wearing four inch heels. It was different because the person she was kissing had a brain that could encompass every medical study known to man and still have room for impressing Jane with baseball stats and the finer details of beer horticulture since the middle ages and the science of chocolate and any other damn thing she'd never known she'd wanted to know. It was different because the woman who kept doing that _thing_ with her tongue right now that made Jane's entire body clench with agonised pleasure, was the head of a huge forensics department with multiple minions who'd scurry to carry out her orders, but she'd blushed and cried as she'd confessed her feelings to a tall skinny homicide detective. This kiss was different, because Jane was in love with the person who was kissing her.

Okay, it was a little bit the woman thing as well. Jane had never kissed anyone small enough to straddle her on a couch before, and the position it had Maura's body in, in relation to her own, was tantalising. After being with men, Maura's waist felt so strange and slender to touch that Jane's hands made the trip from moulding themselves over her hipbones and up the curve of her ribs and back down, over and over, marvelling at the shape of her. God but there were at least two layers of fabric there - her soft baggy yoga top and some kind of tank underneath it and-

"Please-" Jane was tugging at the bottom edge of Maura's top layer, asking the question after mere minutes of making out. _Slowly,_ Jane remembered, belatedly with chagrin. "I'm not trying to-, I just want -" she stopped when she caught the glimmer of amusement as well as frank want in Maura's eyes as she inclined her head in assent. She let Jane do the undressing and the long sleeved top had barely dropped to the floor before Jane was leaning in to kiss the newly bared skin of her shoulders. _Shit. _She'd misjudged this. That was no plain old tanktop like the one Jane was wearing. The Maura Isles version, it seemed, was much softer, with tiny straps and edged with lace, and the edge was…low.

_God, _she was _so…_and Jane _wanted _and the longer Maura _kissed_ like that, the more and more she wanted. Her hands were pressed flat against Maura's torso now, and almost without her control they inched upwards. The doctor was breathing fast, and her body was in Jane's hands and she started feeling drunk again. "I want to touch you," her voice came out sounding like she'd swallowed gravel. Maura took a sharp breath in as Jane's fingertips brushed the edge of her bra, and she placed her own hands firmly over the top of the detective's, stopping her.

"Tell me-" she murmured. "Tell me one thing, about you, about- how we got _here_-"she pressed Jane's hands a little more firmly to emphasise, "so I understand something about what this is, for you." Her voice was breathless but it was still a command, and the detective blanked for a moment, wondering how the hell Maura expected her to have the mental capacity to start talking _now. _

"I-," she started, then blearily grabbed for the first thing that reached her brain. "Your smell," she said, "it drives me crazy. You would walk past me sometimes, in the corridor, and I'd smell your perfume and I would just want _this_-"she leaned in and kissed her throat, nipping her, and kissing her again "-so badly I couldn't concentrate for the rest of the day." A tiny sound escaped Maura's throat and she arched slightly - at her words or the kiss, Jane couldn't tell - but then she smiled down at her, keeping her hands pinned.

"Not good enough, Jane," she told her, wryly. "Tell me something…real-, -something that helps me know what you feel," her voice was soft, "because you know so much more about how it is for me and I-, I don't like feeling…lost." The vulnerability was back in her voice and Jane let her hands slide down, gently resting on her ribs, no longer asking for anything. She kissed her mouth again, as she searched for words.

"I wanted you from the second I saw you," she admitted quietly when she pulled back. "You hadn't even turned around yet, but I knew…I knew that when you did, I was going to be…gone. And…I _was,_ Maura- I've never felt anything like that before. Just one look and I…god, I was a mess. And I'm _still _a mess, a complete fucking mess and-" and then her hands were full of Maura and her words vanished like smoke.

For a moment she just froze, but then Maura's mouth was brushing her ear and she heard the little breathy moan of, "_Jane."_ Her confidence ignited, she began softly stroking over her breasts, luxuriating at their weight, running her thumbs over her and feeling the shape of the lace of her bra through her top and the hard bump of each nipple rising under her touch. Jane bent her head to kiss along the doctor's collarbones as she stroked and explored, unable to resist the sounds that were pulled from Maura's throat each time she stroked over the sensitive tips.

The next thing she knew Maura was pulling away, but pulling Jane with her until they were lying entangled along the couch, their limbs intertwined and their kissing heated, breathless, hungry and wet. Jane felt molten, rolling them so Maura was beneath her now, holding herself up to kiss her throat and her ear and her mouth. The doctor was arching up against her, and Jane was moving too and a moan kept escaping her at all the places they were touching, until with a shaky gasp she pulled herself back.

"Maura- Maur-, _jesus,_ we should…ugh, _stop!_" she spoke with difficulty. Maura pulled back from kissing her throat and looked up at her, alarmed.

"I'm sorry, are you-"

"No, it's good…it's really…_way _too good," she grimaced slightly. "I feel like a teenager, all of a sudden," she confessed, keeping her body very still and Maura looked at her in confusion. "If we don't stop, I think you're going to make me-," she drew in a deep breath, flushing pink, "-without even taking my clothes off." Maura quickly glanced down to where her thigh was firmly wedged between Jane's and taking a sharp breath of understanding, tactfully pulled it back.

"Is it wrong that that doesn't make me remotely want to stop?" she asked, licking her lips and running her fingers down the centre of Jane's chest. The detective's head fell back against the couch cushions.

"Well that certainly wouldn't be _slow," _she choked, just as Maura's fingers reached her waistband. Aching, she stopped them, bringing them up to her mouth to kiss, before carefully rearranging their bodies so they were lying face to face. "You are so goddamned sexy," she mumbled in faint embarrassment, sliding her hand over the curve of her hip and squeezing her to emphasise. "If we're going to keep doing…this, you're going to be the absolute death of me." Maura frowned and opened her mouth. "Not literally," Jane anticipated her words before they arrived and the doctor's lip twitched. Jane wrapped her arms around her and they lay for a long while, enjoying the warmth of the embrace. Maura's head was tucked into her shoulder, looking ridiculously comfortable, and Jane toyed with the loose tendrils of her hair until her limbs became heavy.

Reluctantly she stirred. "It's late," she realised, lifting her wrist to glance at her watch. "I should probably go."

"Okay," agreed Maura. Very slowly they extricated themselves and Jane gathered her belongings, putting on her shoes and sweatshirt and heading for the door. She opened it, stepping out onto the doorstep. Maura hung in the doorway watching her, and Jane reached in to kiss her goodnight, still marvelling that this was a thing they did now.

"So," she said, feeling suddenly awkward. "Goodnight." Maura leaned up and kissed her again, and the detective could feel her smile.

"I'll see you in the morning, Jane." _Oh shit, work_! Jane realised with a start. They hadn't talked about what they'd do, how they'd act, how it would go. Her mind raced for a moment, but Maura's mouth and her body felt so warm against the cool night air that for the moment, Jane didn't want to let her go. Tomorrow would take care of itself, she decided. Suddenly she pulled back.

"You're not asking me to stay," she accused, remembering nights after baseball and ballet and the Robber, when Maura had pushed gently for her continued presence as Jane had consistently backed out the door at speed.

"No," Maura agreed. Jane looked at her hard, trying to work out why it was suddenly different now that making out was involved. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"But you want me to," she realised. Maura looked away.

"I've asked you to stay before, Jane," her voice was low. "Plenty of times. So now, I don't want to sound like I'm…clingy," she shrugged. Jane wondered which crazy asshole in her past was responsible for Maura associating such a stupid word with herself. She just hoped like hell it wasn't her. She stepped back into the doorway, slinking her arms around the doctor's waist.

"What if I…want to cling?" she asked cautiously. "Would you let me stay the night with you? Not to…but just, because Iwanttoholdyou," she mumbled almost inaudibly. Maura didn't move for a moment, and now Jane understood acutely, how asking for something made you vulnerable, especially if someone was going to knock you back.

"I'm starting to think you have _feelings_ for me, Jane," Maura accused, as she gazed up at the detective, fighting off a slightly smug smile. Jane rolled her eyes and pushed her firmly back into the house, shutting the door behind them.

* * *

Maura's sheets were a very pale, creamy yellow and softer than anything Jane had ever touched before. She slipped somewhat awkwardly between the pristine bedcovers and looked around the room while Maura was in the adjoining bathroom. Her eyes flickered over the wall-hangings, the thick curtains, the low bookcases, the neat stack of fashion magazines by the bed and the tiny intricate nick-nacks that made up Dr. Isles' most private space. Even just being allowed into this room at Maura's invitation made Jane shiver with pleasure and nerves.

The door opened and Maura wandered back into her room wearing the same camisole, only now with small matching lacy shorts that made Jane's mouth go dry. She smiled at Jane and slipped into bed next to her. They stared at each other from adjoining pillows for a moment, until Maura's lip twitched and she turned and switched off the light. Under the cover of darkness Jane pulled the doctor into her arms, both women taking in sharp breaths at the sensation of so much bare skin as their limbs entangled.

"Jesus, Jane," Maura's hand wandered in the dark, investigating the detective's usual choice of bedroom attire - her tanktop and underwear - with her fingers.

"Hmm?" Jane tried not to squirm.

"I've never been able to function around you in a tanktop," she confessed, her voice low.

"Really?" Jane was pretty sure she'd never seen Maura Isles anything less than superhumanly functional.

"Yoga with you…drives me _crazy_," she murmured the admission, her hand sliding under Jane's top, stroking over her abdomen.

"That's why you're always so keen to drag me along?" Jane was struggling to breathe normally. Maura conveniently ignored the question, intently tracing her fingers over her muscle definition.

"Your _body_…Jane Rizzoli," she whispered in awe. "You cover it up with the worst of clothing-"

"Hey!" Jane started to sit up, only to be shoved back down by Maura's yoga muscles.

"- but somehow you always take my breath away," she continued as if Jane hadn't spoken. She was mapping Jane's obliques now. "The night I came over, after Ian left? Your hair was…down, and you had this…this grey police tshirt on," Jane heard her swallow, her fingers sliding further up her ribcage "- and no bra," she continued. "I couldn't stop staring at you, Jane" her voice was almost agonised. "You had this incredible masculine-feminine thing happening that you do sometimes that just, _messes_ me up, and now I…I have these dreams about you like that," she told her, stroking the underside of Jane's bare breast, causing goosebumps to break out all over her body. "Sexual fantasies, to be precise," Jane's breathing became erratic, and then stopped altogether as Maura's fingers traced around the outside of her nipple. "You wouldn't believe the things I've done to you in my head, Jane," she whispered, making Jane cry out as she stroked over her nipple and then pinched it - none-too-gently- as though she already knew exactly what the detective liked. "Or the things I've had you do to me…"

"Tell me-" Jane's breath was coming in short bursts.

"Tell you?" Maura's fingers let go. "I'm going to show you," she seemed satisfied at having turned Jane into quivering jelly and slid her hand back down to Jane's lower abdomen, content just to caress her there, "sometime very soon," she promised. _Or threatened_, Jane gritted her teeth in the dark, as she tried to talk her body back down. "When I'm sure," Maura added. Jane wriggled her body loose from Maura's light grip and turned on her side, trying to make out her expression in the dark.

"Sure?" she asked.

"Of this. Of you. Of…what we're doing," she said softly.

"And what will that take?" Jane stroked her fingers down Maura's arm. She felt Maura shift to face her in the dark.

"I'm not sure, Jane," she admitted. "I want…this. And I think you want this too-"

"I do. A lot-"

"-I just want to make sure we want the same thing. I don't want to…fuck this up," she worried, pronouncing the curse with careful formality. Jane rolled over, pushing Maura over with her so she was spooning the other woman, marvelling at how well they fit together. She kissed the nape of Maura's neck and wrapped her arm firmly around her abdomen.

"Okay," she said, "so then we'll talk. But right now, I just want to keep you here," she kissed her neck again, "while we fall asleep. Is that something you think you could want too?"

"Jane," she could hear the smile in Maura's voice.

"Good," she held her more securely, nestling her chin into the crook of her shoulder. "Maura?"

"Mmhmm?"

"It's seriously hot when you swear," she informed her. "It makes you seem like a…bad-ass librarian." Maura elbowed her in the guts and she winced, clutching Maura's wrist firmly to prevent any further attacks.

"Fuck you," the doctor murmured, and for the first time in months, Jane fell asleep with a grin on her face.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thanks so much for your reviews you guys. You are way too lovely and I'm glad you're having fun with this little piece o fluff.**

**My favourite reviews were the ones from people who were a little bit concerned about Maura swearing...you're right it is totally not something she'd throw around, but you guys, I am AUSTRALIAN. Do you know how hard that makes it for me to write dialogue that isn't all Jane sauntering up to Frost and Korsak on a scene all "Hey, youse cunts, got any farkin' clues yet?" just cos she's in a sunny mood? Cos that's just how we TALK down here. **

**And the fact that Dr. Maura Isles ****_wouldn't_****, just makes the idea of her trying to use the vernacular totally adorbs in my mind, warped by day-to-day profanity as it is. Eh, so, welcome to my universe. Speaking of, I think I accidentally used a cricket metaphor in here, which is totally unlike me...if there was an equivalent baseball one I'd use it. I fucking loved baseball when I last visited the US. Colour me converted. And don't get me started on your "world series" - you guys are such cuteheads.**

**Anyway, this fic is essentially M for my potty mouth. Sorry if I offended anyone. I love all youse cunts!**

**x**

* * *

"What's up with you?"

Jane jerked around at the sound of Korsak's voice and met the older man's bemused stare. She slowly came to realise she'd been staring into space for an unspecified amount of time, twisting a lock of hair incessantly around her fingers while her phone rang. With a jolt, she reached over to answer it, her usual "Rizzoli," coming out brusquer than normal. It was one of Maura's many underlings, informing her that there would be a delay in processing the DNA results from her most recent case, due to the malfunction of some lab equipment that no doubt cost three times her year's salary. She accepted the message without comment and hung up the phone. She felt vaguely bad that she'd already forgotten the young man's name but the truth was that when dealing with the medical examiner's office she'd long ago divided the employees into two groups of over-qualified science nerds: Maura and Not-Maura. Maura was who she wanted to speak to, Not-Maura's, not so much.

Jane had also been long resigned to tackling the problem of having to get through her day-to-day workload whilst disadvantaged by her brain's propensity for inappropriate thoughts about the chief medical examiner, but this was just a whole other level. Last night was running through her head on loop, like _Jane and Maura's Top Ten Greatest Hits, Vol: 1. _Jane was especially stuck on numbers 3 (Maura in her lap, cleavage in her face and Jane's hands on her ass) and 7 (Maura's sultry voice in her ear promising unspeakable future pleasures), though number 1 still kept overpowering her with its complete and utter air of unreality (Jane kisses Maura for the first time and knocks her for six). Jane smirked. And then she stopped.

An extremely high heeled foot had just arrived on the exact spot of worn carpet she'd been staring glazedly at. Her eyes rose up over a pair of shapely bare legs and a very form fitting red dress, shifting quickly up to meet the curving lip and sparkling eyes of the chief medical examiner herself. Jane shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

"Hello, Dr. Isles," she said a little stiffly. "How are you this morning?"

"I am well thank you, Detective Rizzoli," she replied, her tone equally formal. "And yourself?"

"I'm…well too, th-thank you for asking," Jane's voice came out ridiculously deep.

"I'm glad to hear it," Maura said, her facial expression the epitome of sincere. "Your nasojugular folds indicate a degree of tiredness. Did you not sleep well last night?" Jane's eyes narrowed at her.

"I slept wonderfully, thank you." In fact her sleep had been frequently interrupted due to several heavy make-out sessions that had unfolded each time they'd turned sleepily to discover the other there, warm, semi-clothed, and soft-skinned. She'd slipped out early in the morning to call a cab for home, leaving the doctor curled warmly between the sheets. Maura was leaning on her desk now, fiddling with one of Jane's pencils and smiling innocently at the detective. "Can I help you with something Dr. Isles?" she asked pointedly.

"No, I simply came to give you this," she lay a file on Jane's desk, which at a glance contained a summary of the doctor's initial autopsy findings of their impaling victim. Delivering it was a task any junior lab tech or administrator could have done, but as usual, Maura was there at her desk in person. She tried not to smile, seeing the past few months of Dr. Isles' ubiquitous presence in a whole new light. That _goddamn_ dress though…that was not playing fair. Jane realised she was staring at the doctor's cleavage and jerked her eyes guiltily upwards, until the satisfied quirk of Maura's lip made her realise the dress had been calculatedly selected to provoke that exact reaction.

"_Thank you_, Dr. Isles," she said tightly, folding her arms protectively around her own chest. "You have a pleasant day now," she told her through gritted teeth. Maura's smile was wide.

"I will, Detective." Her fingers slid over Jane's wrist for the barest of seconds, making her jump, with all her new-found associations with Maura's skin leaping up at her touch. "You too," Maura's eyes grazed over her body, briefly but thoroughly, before she turned and clipped out. Her awareness of Jane's eyes following her showed in every one of her graceful movements as she walked to the door. "Morning detectives," she nodded at Jane's colleagues on her way through, who Jane noted tensely, were also admiring Maura's…dress. She bit back several irritated snipes at them, already feeling incredibly exposed.

"What's up with you and the doc? You have a fight or something?" asked Korsak, raising his eyebrows at the weird vibe in the room. Jane pulled her eyes back from gazing through the door at Maura from behind, as she waited for the elevator to arrive. Both Korsak and Frost were giving her odd looks; Korsak looked confused, while Frost appeared to be faintly smirking.

"Huh? _No,_" she scoffed and glared down at her desk. The scent of Maura's perfume was wafting up from the file in front of her. Jane tried not to believe that the doctor had managed that on purpose. _Oh god._ This whole working together thing was going to be a nightmare. She waited until Frost and Korsak were both on calls of their own, before picking up her phone and dialling.

"Dr. Isles," came the formal response, even though Jane knew perfectly well Maura had caller I.D.

"Hi. It's _Detective Rizzoli,"_ her tone was sardonic.

"And how may I help you?" Maura asked, her voice warming Jane's ear.

"When can I see you?" She kept her voice to a soft murmur.

"Do you need me to come back upstairs again?" Jane could hear the smile in Maura's voice.

"Maura. _When can I see_ _you?_"

"Lunch," Maura promised. "I'll wrap up as soon as I can and take you to Yumi's," she named a sushi restaurant three blocks away. Jane read between the lines and smiled. Raw fish aside, Yumi's was quiet, dimly lit and far enough away from work there'd be no one there they knew. She imagined squeezing in beside Maura in one of the little booths, their bodies touching, teasing each other a little over lunch…maybe she'd get to steal a kiss coming back through the park where no one could see them. Jane threw herself into work trying to make the time fly.

* * *

As lunchtime arrived, Maura sent a message saying she'd be delayed at least half an hour. Grant stuck his head around the corner minutes later to announce a meeting for immediately after her scheduled lunch break, and so Jane found her fantasy of a private lunchtime canoodling with the medical examiner screeching to a halt. Instead she found herself facing down Maura across a table in the very public and highly unromantic police cafeteria.

"I hate my life," she announced, eyeing Maura in her sinful dress, and stabbing at her undercooked fries with her fork. She'd hooked her blazer on the back of her chair to eat lunch in her tshirt and was gratified to notice Maura's eyes were roving as well.

"Take me to dinner tonight instead," Maura said, her eyes drifting hungrily over Jane's biceps. Jane wasn't sure if that was a command, a suggestion or a question, but it made her smile despite herself.

"Okay. Sure. That dress definitely deserves to be taken someplace better than Stanley's Kitchen from Hell," Jane agreed, though mostly she just wanted to imagine peeling the damn thing off of her. Maura seemed to realise this because she leaned forward just a few inches, allowing Jane a tantalising view of the tops of her breasts, all the while concentrating on her salad as though entirely unaware of what she was doing. Jane gave up and shoved her food to the side, a tiny agonised sound escaping her throat.

"Maura," she began. "We should talk about how we're going to play this, you know - at work."

"Play what exactly, Jane?" Maura raised her eyebrows.

"_This,_" Jane frowned at her. "Us."

"Us," Maura repeated. "_This_. Shouldn't we talk first about what this is?" she asked. "Isn't that what we decided?"

"Here?" Jane asked. "You want to talk about this in Cafe Chez Stan?" Maura only shrugged and Jane felt a little like she'd been thrown down a gauntlet. "Okay," she started, feeling more than a little awkward. She lowered her voice. "I…want to date you," she gazed at Maura, who nodded, her cheeks a little pink.

"And what does dating mean, precisely?" Maura asked "To Jane Rizzoli," she added, toying with her fork and watching Jane's face. The detective cocked her head, watching Maura right back.

"Usually it means some guy pays for a lousy dinner and expects me to put out," she admitted, and Maura laughed, the little flash of fire in her eyes quite clearly stating, _you wish, Jane Rizzoli. _"But as for dating you…Maura, I…don't know. Maybe I just want what we've been doing all along - eating together, seeing movies and baseball and…_ballet_," she scrunched up her nose, "and just taking the time to just feel out where this goes," she tried.

"You don't know where you want this to go," Maura stated. There was no judgement in her voice, and her face was unreadable. Jane really wished they were anywhere but at work right now. All she wanted to do was touch the woman sitting across from her, as if that would somehow make these words come out correctly.

"Maura," she said softly. "I don't want to sound like…I mean, I don't have self-esteem issues, okay? I think I'm fucking great. But I never, once, for a second, thought that you were going to return these feelings I had. Look at you-" she shook her head, almost laughing. "You're so completely out of my league."

"Jane-"

"No, let me finish. I thought it was this…crush, that I had and I hoped so hard for it to just go away because in my mind the _only_ alternative was going to be for me to be longing for you at a distance, forever. That was it. I never once even considered that you would want me back, not ever. So now, sitting here with you, even having this discussion? Feels unreal, like actually unreal. I'm still waiting for someone to laugh and tell me the punchline, or…or for me to wake up, or _something_ and to go back to my normal life…where you're out of my reach and…Ian is your boyfriend."

"Jane, Ian would make a terrible boyfriend. He only wants to fellate other men's penises. Like, all of the time," Maura rolled her eyes and Jane spat her mouthful of coffee and had to grab for the napkins. Maura didn't skip a beat. "What are you telling me, Jane?"

"I'm telling you that you're right, I haven't ever thought about where I wanted this to go," she gazed, wide-eyed at Maura. "All the future that I thought about, was the one where I hoped that I would be able to cope with always wanting you so badly and not ever getting to …have you," she swallowed. "I never thought about what it would mean if you wanted me back. What it would mean to…my life, and my family and for my job and us working together," to her horror there were tears in her eyes all of a sudden. She _loved_ Maura. Why was this so hard?

Maura grabbed for her hand across the table and Jane hated how her gaze quickly shot out to see if anyone was looking, but Maura didn't let go.

"All those things, Jane," she said softly, "we'd work them out together. You know that, don't you?" Jane looked into Maura's steady gaze and nodded her head, slowly. When she looked into Maura's eyes, she did know that, or at least, she was pretty sure she did. "Jane…fast or slow, or really really slow," she said, "it would be okay with me. I just want to know how you feel," her eyes were imploring now.

Jane gripped Maura's fingers back. There was no way in hell she was going to tell Maura that she was in love with her for the first time in the police cafeteria. And on top of that…Jane believed in _slow_ too. She wanted to do this right. She wanted to tell Maura she loved her, and then _love_ her, no holds barred. She didn't want to announce this huge feeling and then follow it up by insisting on discretion and tiptoeing around as she worked things out. She wasn't a hypocrite. But right now Maura was looking at her, needing _something_. She took a deep breath in.

"Maura, I'm not afraid of dead bodies," she started. "I have…zero issues with corpses, crime scenes, blood, guts, gore. Nada." The doctor just stared at her, so she rushed on. "Jesus, Maura, I've seen hundreds of autopsies….tons of dead bodies. I've been a cop for fifteen years, and I have never once gotten dizzy, or pale, or shaky or sick." Maura was shaking her head now.

"You lied about that?" she asked quietly.

"No," Jane retorted. "I was dizzy, pale, shaky and sick," she pointed out. Maura opened her mouth and then closed it again, looking lost. "Maura," she took the doctor's other hand in hers too. _Fuck all those other cops. _"It wasn't the crime scenes that were shaking me up, it was the medical examiner." Maura shook her head again.

"I made you sick?" she asked, incredulously. Jane nodded. So far as romantic declarations went, this one wasn't exactly kicking goals.

"Yes. L-lovesick," she almost stumbled over the word. "That's what my mother calls it anyway," she rushed on. "I have a bad case of it," she reported seriously. "Probably the worst you've ever seen," she bit back a smile. Maura gazed at her for a long moment, her eyes shining now. She bit her lip thoughtfully, then pulled back her hands and looked at her watch.

"We have fifteen minutes," she announced, standing up. Jane stood too, unsure what was going on, but she followed Maura's firm grip on her elbow as she led her out the door.

The doctor walked her briskly through the corridor, up the back stairs, down another corridor Jane had never seen before and quickly checking around them, hauled the detective into a small dark utility room.

"Where the hell-" Jane started and stopped when Maura tugged her close, colliding into each other's bodies in the semi-darkness. She stopped thinking anything at all as Maura's warm mouth found hers, instead leaning in and backing the doctor into the wall, moulding herself against her firm body without breaking the kiss. The sudden change from the imposed distance over the cafeteria table to _this_ - Maura warm and pliant in her arms - made everything else go blank. Then she pulled back and laughed shakily. "We're a homicide detective and the chief medical examiner, and we're making out in a supply closet," she stated, and Maura gripped her in close by her hips in a way that made the laugh die in her throat.

"Yes, we are," she leaned up and kissed her again. "And we have nine minutes left," she pulled Jane's tshirt out from her waistband and slid her hands underneath, making the detective's breathing hitch. "Jane?" she pulled back from a searing kiss. "Are you feeling dizzy or sick right now?" Jane's hands were under Maura's hair, toying longingly with the zip at the back of her dress, wishing nine minutes were ninety.

"No," she kissed and nipped Maura's neck, trying to remember to be careful and not leave any marks. "Turns out you're my cure, as well as my sickness," she told her, as she kissed her top lip and then the bottom,"so I'm going to need your mercy, Dr. Isles." Maura hummed and ground her body up against Jane's.

"Oh Jane," her lips brushed the detective's ear. "I'm sorry, I'm all out of that."


	14. Chapter 14

**This is for YouThink, all the way over in the forests of Finland with her dog. I've also gotten over a breakup that way before! Much love to you xx**

**And also, to you**

**x**

* * *

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. Jane fidgeted and squirmed through her mid-afternoon meeting and afterwards couldn't have explained who'd spoken about what for any amount of love or money. She was too busy trying to control her breathing as she recalled trailing her fingers up under Maura's dress and along her smooth thighs during their lunchtime make-out session, right up until the doctor's frustratingly accurate timekeeping and heartfelt belief in punctuality had her pressing Jane back out the door before the detective even knew what was happening. Both women had been flush-faced and flustered as they parted ways in the corridor but only Jane had had to spend the next forty-five minutes pretending to pay attention to the new lieutenant's spiel on his personal philosophy of how to run a homicide department.

Joe Grant must have misinterpreted Jane's blushing silence because after the meeting he stopped her from leaving, trying to pin down their plans for a dinner date. Jane stared at him slightly befuddled for a beat too long; so much of significance had happened since he'd asked her out that she'd almost forgotten it had happened.

"Sure, Joey, that sounds great," she responded carefully, to his plan to take her for an old-fashioned Italian meal the following week. "It'll be nice to catch up properly, you know…as old friends." He caught the note of caution in her voice, or possibly just her lack of sharp ribbing that had always passed for flirting between them and raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Well, yeah," he agreed. "I've missed seeing you Jane," he paused. "I've thought about you a lot over the years, you know, and I always hoped that one day we might-"

"Joe," she stopped him, "as much as you know I hate it, you're my boss now. I don't want anything to get awkward, so I just thought you should let you know I'm...seeing someone," she felt a little weird declaring herself as taken after less than twenty-four hours of sneaking around with Maura Isles, but she felt the truth of that statement all the same. Jane had never felt more taken in her life. She caught the dubious look on Grant's face.

"Oh…sure, Jane, that's…so great," he replied. "Who's the lucky guy?" he looked disbelieving. "I mean, I asked around and no one seemed to think there'd been anyone in a while." Jane flattened her expression.

"We're keeping it on the down low," she said evasively. "Can you keep it to yourself for now?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he looked at her closely, then sighed. "Is it serious? I mean…no one's proposing here, so…" Jane glared at him.

"Yeah. It's serious," she dismissed him flatly. _So serious you have no idea. So serious _she _has no idea. _"I'm…going...to get back to work now," she raised her eyebrow and he waved her off, looking slightly defeated.

* * *

The afternoon was a slow one, and so Jane interposed work with an increasingly frantic google search for a restaurant that seemed good enough to take Maura Isles to, recalling her own words about being expected to put out after a crappy meal and cursing herself. She was just entering _Boston restaurant hot lesbian date expensive_ into the search engine when they got a call out.

The scene was unpleasant at first view - a wealthy address containing a middle aged man with his hands tied and his throat slashed, left sitting on his own sofa - but it only became more and more unpleasant as Maura probed wounds and Jane shone the UV light over the furniture. Piecing together the evidence, the scene quickly revealed that there was a second victim missing - the man's wife, Margaret - and that she'd been raped prior to disappearing, likely while the husband was helpless to help her. There was an empty tea cup and saucer knocked to the floor next to the dead man, and watching as that small domestic detail was bagged up by a tech, got right under Jane's skin.

She hated cases like this. Most murders she investigated eventually proved to have the same stupid motivations - money, jealousy, drugs and stupidity - but once in a while, a very different kind of killer emerged. Whoever this asshole was, he was smart and sick, and motivated by nothing more than a love of cruelty itself.

Gone were any ideas of dinner dates - instead the entire homicide team worked late into the evening, trying to uncover the fate of Margaret Jenson, though Jane privately, didn't hold out much hope. Just before dark her body was discovered dumped in the bushes of a central city park. It was well after 2am by the time Jane sagged in her chair with exhaustion, all her initial avenues of enquiry coming up empty - no witnesses, no known enemies, no obvious suspects.

"Get some sleep," Korsak tossed at her. "Tomorrow's going to be a hell of a day," he warned. Jane groaned. He was right. By morning the news would be all over the television and the papers and they'd be leaned on from above with ever increasing pressure to find and arrest this piece of shit.

"I'll just see how Maura's doing," she hedged, knowing no one would bat an eyelid at her checking in with the medical examiner on her way out the door. When she pushed her way through the doors to the morgue, her heart clenched in her chest. Maura had worked non-stop to complete both autopsies that night, and now she was dressed back in her street clothes, gazing exhaustedly down at the covered body of the dead wife. Jane could read the same feelings written all over Maura's tired face as she'd been experiencing - anger, sadness, disgust and frustration.

"Pretty bad, huh?" she said softly, and Maura nodded, grimacing at the understatement. Her shoulders sagged.

"I've come to take you home," Jane said firmly.

"But, I still have to-" Maura protested, and Jane held up her hand stopping her.

"Tomorow, Maura," she shook her head, refusing to take no for an answer. Maura looked almost dead on her feet. She looked at Jane with a frown, but then slowly exhaled and nodded.

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly. "Let me just-" she stopped at the stern look on Jane's face. A very small smile flittered briefly across her features and she turned to pack up.

Jane drove. Maura gazed silently out at the city lights flashing past, her fingers knitted together in her lap.

"You thinking about the case?" Jane asked her after a while. Maura turned to look at her, her eyes grazing over the detective's own tired face.

"I was thinking about you," she said simply. Jane met her eyes briefly and Maura smiled the same small, almost-smile that she had back in the morgue. "Normally," she confessed, "I would work all night on a case like this. I'd have a nap in my office for an hour maybe, then start all over again. I'd estimated that you would be the same," she told the detective.

"I am," she admitted. "Usually." She felt Maura's eyes on her face.

"So what's different about tonight?" she asked. _Damn her. _ Jane kept her eyes fixed on the road.

"I figured you'd overwork yourself," she shrugged. "I wanted to make sure you got some rest. You're always telling me about the importance of sleep to a person's health and I thought you should take your own advice. If that means I have to pull you out of work and drive you home myself then I will." There was a silence in the car and when Jane finally dragged her gaze back from the road, Maura's eyes were soft.

"Thank you for looking after me, Jane," her voice was warm and low. Jane scoffed, annoyed to find herself blushing.

"You realise this is all about trying to get into your pants, right?" she tried. Maura's smile grew.

"You're getting closer all the time," she murmured, her fingers landing on Jane's upper thigh, squeezing gently and bringing Jane's exhausted body very, very awake.

By the time they got to Maura's, had the - _are you coming in? - _discussion, showered and collapsed together into the doctor's bed, it was nearly three a.m. Jane groaned as Maura set an alarm for seven o'clock before switching off the light. She pulled the smaller woman's body close against her own, pressing kisses against her neck and nearly-naked shoulders, revelling in her soft skin and softer scent. _I'm so in love with you,_ she told her silently, her heart skipping several beats, almost afraid she'd said it out loud.

"I have no idea where to take you for dinner," she mumbled tiredly instead. Maura shifted back against her, her hips, backs of knees, slender legs and small feet all curving to fit against the detective's longer body. Jane gripped her even tighter, luxuriating in every single place they touched.

"It's nerve-wracking, isn't it?" Maura replied, her voice wry. "That's why I overshot and took you to _Le Beau Truc_."

"But that was for-" Jane's brain belatedly put the pieces together. "Of course that wasn't for Ian," she realised, rolling her eyes at herself. Maura's hand slid over Jane's where it was resting against the doctor's abdomen.

"It was Ian's idea," Jane could hear the smile in her voice. "I was very stressed about asking you out and so he called in a favour with the head chef, who was someone else he used to…_know,_" Maura euphemised. "It was his farewell present for me, so that I couldn't back out of it. He thought I was being overly cautious in my pursuit of you." Jane chuckled at that.

"He might have had a point, Maura," she kissed the slope of her shoulder again. "Considering I had no idea there was any pursuing happening whatsoever."

"I can't help that you're so obtuse," Maura protested and Jane's kiss turned into a sharp nip, causing Maura to arch against her in a way that made her thoughts scatter. "At any rate, he thought if I lured you out on a romantic date without telling you, it might plant the seed at the very least." Jane thought of Maura's gold dress, of the candlelight and holding hands across the table and she bit back a small moan.

"That was…that was all for me," she stated in smug disbelief. Maura hummed in acknowledgement, her fingers stroking Jane's. "Remind me to thank Ian," Jane noted, sincerely.

"You should," the doctor replied. "I was ready to despair by that point, but when Ian met you he said…he said, ah-" she hesitated, until Jane nudged her. "_There's no way that woman is straight_ - is what he said," Maura blurted, causing Jane to stiffen at Ian's typical assessment of her. "Because," the doctor rushed on, "_she looks at you like she wants to eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner,_ is how he actually phrased it," she concluded. Jane snorted.

"He got all that from meeting me for three-and-a-half seconds?" she asked. Maura nodded. "Then it's true," she conceded lightly. Maura shivered suddenly.

"That's, um…" she seemed momentarily lost for words. "That's quite an image, Jane." The detective swallowed audibly as she caught up to the Maura's secondary interpretation of Ian's words. Giving up all hope of sleep, she turned them both, pinning Maura neatly beneath her on the mattress, making her squeak. Her head spun at the way Maura's breathing immediately hitched, and she leaned in, kissing her heatedly. Maura's fingers dug into her hips, hard enough to leave bruises, pulling Jane in closer, their bare thighs sliding between each other.

"You have no idea of the things you make me want," Jane murmured huskily against the doctor's ear, and Maura's hips jerked against her in a way that made her see white for a moment. "_God, _you make me crazy," she choked, leaning back down to kiss her throat. She kissed her way down her chest, sliding up her tanktop to press open-mouthed kisses against her abdomen, her brain abuzz with the images Maura's suggestive words had planted there. _Eat her, indeed. _Ian was right, Jane had never wanted anything so badly in her life.

She was kissing along the waistband of the doctor's tiny shorts, Maura writhing under her touch, until she sat up abruptly, clutching for Jane so they ended up kneeling, face-to-face on the bed, both women struggling for breath.

"Jane," she brought their bodies flush together, "when this _happens_…" she trailed her fingers all the way down the centre of the detective's long body, "I'm going to need you for more than a few hours," she said breathlessly, and Jane couldn't stop the small moan that escaped her throat. They kissed hungrily, her hands in Maura's hair, while Maura's fingers wandered her body at will, tracing over clothes and bare skin and places that made Jane hiss, until they almost over-balanced and the doctor tugged her back down into bed with her, to lie side by side, tangled together in the sheets, with Jane breathing as though she'd just run a marathon.

This concept of being made to wait by someone who she badly wanted to sleep with was painfully new to Jane, and she had no idea what to do with the heated charge that was throbbing through her body. She was fought against her body to stop it from actually, physically squirming with the heady combination of lust and frustration. The idea that if it wasn't for the case that had thrown their plans out the window, she might possibly have spent her entire night helping herself to course after course of Maura Isles made her go rigid with aggravation for a moment.

"I am going to catch the _hell_ out of this perp, Maura," she swore. "Goddamn bastard piece of _shit_." Maura nodded vehemently from the pillow beside her.

"Very dedicated of you, Jane," she could hear the breathless smile in Maura's voice. Jane sighed, beyond vexed at the situation they were in.

"I wanted to kiss you so badly that night too," she told her, her muscles clenching at the thought of all her missed opportunities.

"You should have," Maura said heatedly. "I couldn't keep my eyes off you. I had no idea you would scrub up so well," she said appreciatively. Jane turned toward her.

"Frost insisted," she snorted at the memory. "I think if I hadn't agreed to go shopping with him, he'd have knocked me out cold and I'd have woken up in that dress anyway. I had no idea he was such a fashion buff," she said wonderingly. Maura shook her head and Jane could just make out the flash of her smile in the dark.

"He knew I wanted it to be a date," she corrected her.

"Huh?" Jane froze. "You mean you…talked about this with him?" Maura sighed at the tension in Jane's voice.

"He guessed," she said. "About my feelings. Probably after the thousandth time he caught me staring at you, I would imagine. I didn't have to say anything at all," she sounded wistful and Jane wasn't sure if it was because her partner had proven to be a better detective than she was, or because she wished Jane wasn't so agitated about the idea of people knowing.

"Sorry, Maura," she stroked her fingers down her bare arm. "He's just…my work partner, is all. We don't really talk about that stuff." She thought of Frost's wide-eyed distress at the idea she was planning to meet Maura in just her old work clothes, and suddenly she chuckled. "He's rooting for us, at any rate," she realised. "He must think I'm so damn _stupid_…"

"He's a good friend," Maura squeezed her fingers. "You looked incredible, Jane. In fact think I'm a little jealous he got to see you in that dress at all," she said. "He didn't actually go into the change room with you did he?" Her eyes narrowed. Jane laughed out loud. She remembered Frost's hands over his eyes.

"Believe me, Maura, that was all for you. I think he hated the experience as much as I did," she grinned. "He just didn't want me to screw up a chance with you by making my own _terrible _fashion choices," she rolled her eyes, waiting for Maura to jump in and correct her.

"I think I owe him a thank you card," she agreed instead. "Or maybe you do. I'm not sure which of us he did the biggest favour." Jane stared at her through the dark.

"Or maybe you should just date each other," she suggested, her brows raised. "Imagine how much fun you guys could have getting dressed together."

"You're right," the doctor reflected. "And he does fill out his suits quite nicely." Jane jerked the pillow out from under Maura's head.

"Go sleep in your own bed," she grumbled. Maura laughed at her, and nestled in closer to rest her head comfortably on Jane's shoulder instead. Her fingers curled under the edge of Jane's tanktop.

"Unfortunately for me, he's not who I want to get _un_dressed with," she backtracked, sliding her fingers nimbly up the detective's torso. Jane stopped her short; she was not going to remotely cope with any more of Maura's teasing tonight. She shifted over, letting Maura share her pillow again, wrapping her arm around her slim shoulders and settling her in close.

"Huh. Well you're going to have to start playing your cards right if you ever want that to happen," she lied. Maura slid her arm around Jane's waist.

"Hm," Maura considered. "You're right, Jane. I could start playing _nicely_ with you if that's what you want?" Jane groaned. While Maura's thigh was hooked over her own she was pretty sure there was no safe answer to that question.

* * *

They managed a couple of hours of sleep, just enough so that Jane felt like she'd been hit by a cement truck when Maura's chirpy alarm went off. A hot shower, a strong coffee and a long good morning kiss from Dr. Isles all helped her feel roughly human-shaped again. The complete heart-attack she had when one of Maura's weird looking coffee tables moved its head and blinked at her was what truly woke her up though.

"You…_really_ have a tortoise," she said bleakly, as the object of her affections fussed with a bowl of salad greens and freshly sliced organic fruit for the huge plodding creature, before bending down and patting her pet lovingly on his stone cold shell.

Their brief respite from the world of work seemed to have passed by in a blink now that they were back in the car again, heading back for what was sure to be another horrifically long day. They were minutes away from reaching their destination when Maura spoke.

"I can wait in the car for a few minutes if you'd like," she offered. Jane looked at her in confusion.

"Sorry?"

"So no one knows we arrived together," she pointed out. "You're still in yesterday's clothes, so if we arrive together, people are going to wonder." Jane frowned for a moment, considering it. "It's fine, Jane," Maura sighed. "It makes sense." Jane glanced at her sideways. They were both still very tired, but there was an odd note in the doctor's tone.

"It's fine, Maura," she jumped in quickly. "If anyone thinks anything, it'll be that we were up late chasing crooks and we're just car pooling buddies." Her car-pooling buddy shot her a look that made her insides shrivel.

"That's…wonderful news, Jane," she said sharply. _Oh shit. _

"That was…you were…testing me," she realised. "Why can't women just say what they mean?" she asked, feeling suddenly out of her depth.

"You're a woman too, Jane," Maura pointed out. "Though I guess that's the problem, isn't it?" Jane stared at her. _A sleep-deprived Maura was a cranky Maura. Who knew? _Her mouth opened then closed again.

"Maura, I-"

"Ugh, Jane, I'm sorry," she shook her head as if to clear it. "I'm really very tired and I'm not being fair. We agreed to go slow on all of this. I don't want to pressure you." Jane opened her mouth, but the doctor stopped her. "It's really fine," she said softly. "So fine."

They pulled into the parking garage and Jane's tired brain pinged thoughts back and forth like pinball. She was dating _Dr. Maura Isles_. Maura, who was stunningly beautiful, wickedly accomplished, apparently quite rich and definitely classy as all hell. She was the kind of woman that men competed over, fought for her attention and bragged about. Anyone who got to date her would usually be parading her around like the world's shiniest trophy. Maura Isles had never been anyone's dirty secret before. They got into the elevator and she gazed sideways at the doctor, who gazed straight ahead, avoiding her eyes. Maura hit the button for the morgue.

"Where are you going?" Jane asked.

"To start work," she shrugged.

"Don't you want the updated Jenson file?" she asked. "Korsak will have copies for us all by now."

"Can't you drop it to me later?" Maura asked, as the door to the morgue dinged open. She clearly wanted to escape. Jane caught her elbow.

"It's going to be a busy day," she argued. "Come grab it, please?" Maura looked openly annoyed with her now, but she let the doors slide closed again.

"I don't see why you can't just email me a copy," a tiny crease had appeared between her eyebrows. "It would take you thirty seconds."

"You know I'm terrible with technology," Jane replied. The door opened at her floor and Maura trailed after her.

"That's ridiculous," she said testily. "Homicide investigation is all about technology," she briefly greeted Korsak and Frost, who were both looking equally worse for wear. The room was full of tired looking detectives and support staff; everyone was under-slept, tension showing on all their lined faces. Clearly no leads had broken over night. Maura followed her over to her desk. "Not being able to operate a simple scanner in this day and age is absurd, Jane," she huffed as the detective plonked the file in her hands.

Jane placed her hand on the small of the doctor's back and steered her firmly back over to the door to the bullpen, Maura shooting her an even more irritated expression at her abrupt treatment. Jane stopped just before the door, tugged the doctor's chin upwards and kissed her softly on the lips. All conversation in the bullpen stopped.

"Have a good day," she said lightly. "I'll see you at lunch." Maura froze, her face flushing a deep pink, then she nodded once, and pushed her way out the door. "_What?"_ Jane shot a withering glare around the flabbergasted room as she headed back to her desk. Korsak's jaw was on the ground, Frost was grinning like an idiot and a round of applause started from the back, petering out quickly after a faint chorus of whoops and whistles as Jane shrugged dismissively and sat down. Her phone chimed a message. It was from Maura and contained just one word.

_Tonight x _


End file.
